* 



i LIBRARY OF CONGRESS,! 



Chap. 
Shelf 






UNITED STATES dF AMERICA. 




4' 



It 

OXFORD ADDRESSES: 

BEING THE 

INAUGURAL ADDRESS, 

AND 

ADDRESS TO THE GRADUATES OF MIAMI UNIVERSITY, OF 
THE YEARS 1829, '30, »31, 32, »33, '34, * 

BY R; H. bishop, D. D. PRESmENT; 

ADDRESSES 

DELIVERED, ON ANNIVERSARY OCCASIONS, BEFORE 

THE ERODELPHIAN AND UNION LITERARY 

SOCIETIES OF MIAMI UNIVERSITY; 

AND 

AN ADDRESS 

DELIVERED AT THE ANNIVERSARY OP THE 

SOCIETY OF THE ALUMNI OF MIAMI UNIVERSITY, 

6EFTEMBER 82, 1834, 

BY WILLIAM M. CORRY, A; M. 



5 HANOVER, IND. 

PUBLISHED BY JOSEPH G. MONFORT. 

. SAKOVER COLLEGE PRESS.. 

183?, 




^ 






ADVERTISEMENT. 

The object of the publisher, in presenting this volume to the 
public, is to afford the patrons and friends of Miami University, in a 
connected and cheap form, a collection of Addresses, which were 
delivered within her walls, and published, from time to time, in 
pamphlet form. 

Miami University is deservedly reckoned among the first Institu- 
tions of our country. These addresses afford a specimen of her Hter- 
ature and moral character; and it is confidently hoped that their perusal 
will be a source of pleasure and improvement to the friends of learn- 
ing every where. 

Dr. Bishop's Addresses are well worthy of preservation. They 
combine richness of thought and expression, and abound in moral 
and religious counsel and instruction of the highest order. They 
•exhibit a miniature view of that widely extended field, which, for 
many years, he has so carefully and constantly cultivated, in the edu- 
cation of multitudes of young men, who are now to be found in every 
State, and occupying every station of useful life. The addresses of 
Rev. Messrs. Gray and Thompson se^m necessary as an introduction 
to the President's Inaugural, and they are certainly worthy of the 
place they occupy. 

Literary Societies are justly esteemed as invaluable aids in the cause 
of education: they are equal, at least, to one third of the whole College 
course, if well organized and conducted. The Societies whose anni- 



IV ADVBRTISSMSNT. 

verearjr addreieeB are included ia thia volume, like the lintitution 

with which they are connected, are yet in infancy. These addresses 
are their first offerings. May they prove a stimulus to kindred Insti- 
tutions to press forward in advancing the great interests of letters. 

The Alumni of Miami University have formed themselves into a 
Society, and hold their annual meeting at Oxford, at the close of the 
College year. Their last Anniversary Address will render this volume 
of increased interest and value to them. 

If this publication will, to any extent, promote the prosperity of 
Miami University, or afford gratification to those who have been, or 
still are, its members, every anticipation will be fully realized. The 
end secured will be but a tribute of gratitude fram one who has 

enjoyed liberally the privileges of the Institution. 

Tes Publisher. 



CONTENTS 



Rev. William Gray's Address 
John Thompson's " 

Dr. Bishop's Inaugural " . , • 

** Address to the Graduates of the year 1829 

« « i« 1830 

u 4t « 1831 

it t€ « 1832 

<t « « 1833 

it it it 1834 



Mr. B. Drake's Address 
Dr. Staughton'a <« 
Dr. Caldwell's Discourse 
Mr. Walker's Address 
Mr. Ewing's " 
Mr. Hall's " 

Dr. Drake's •• 
Mr, Grimke's Oration 
Mr. Corry*fl Address 



Page. 

. 9 

12 

. 15 

31 

. 37 

48 

. 57 

62 

• 71 

79 

. 92 

104 

137 

156 

170 

193 

227 

261 



ADDRESSES 



DEUVEBEDAT 



MIAMI UNIVERSITY, OXFORD, O. 



BT 



R. H. BISHOP, D* D. PRESIDENT. 



ADDRESS, 

BY THE REV. WILLIAM GRAY, 

AT THE INAUGURATION OF THE REV. R. H. BISHOP, D. D. AS PRESIDENT 
OF MIAMI UNIVERSITY, MARCH 30, 1834. 

To day we are assembled, as the patrons and friends of litera- 
ture, to aid an infant seminary, whose birth has been involved in 
a long night of numerous and almost appalling difficulties. Many 
of which have arisen from a train of imperious circumstances, 
necessarily connected with the existence and location of the insti- 
tution, while others have been thrown in the way by prejudice, 
selfishness and ignorance. 

But, by the persevering efforts of its friends, and by a propitious 
providence, these mountains have been cast into the sea, and the 
gloomy night has given place to a pleasant morning, pregnant with 
prospects of the most flattering character. 

Here, lately a wilderness, has the sun of science begun to dawn. 
Within these consecrated walls is now erected a standard, around 
which the sons of the south and west are rallying to receive that 
instruction which will make them the lights and safe-guards of our 
beloved country. 

Here the ancient wisdom of Greece and Rome, the modern im- 
provements of the arts and sciences, the morals and religion of the 
sacred scriptures, will invite, amuse, improve, and reform the 
youthful mind. 

The Faculty — Brethren: 

To you we have directed our attention, to you we have raised 
our inviting voice, and have called you from your country and 
friends, to fill those seats of science, and to disseminate (by pre- 
cept and example) those instructive lessons which will inspire our 
sons with wisdom, and lead them in the paths of virtue and piety. 
This we have done, in the fullest confidence of your qualifications. 
While in this public manner, we are happy to have it in our 



10 REV. WILLIAM GRAY's ADDRESS. 

power to contribute a testimonial of approbation, and to coniirnfi 
our engagements by this solemn investiture. 

Your task will be arduous — your responsibility great. You 
will need all the resources of your wisdom; the exercise of much 
patience, forbearance and perseverance, in the discharge of the 
many, difficult and important duties of your office. 

To preside over, and to manage all the varied and perplexing 
concerns of this institution ; to be charged with the care and edu- 
cation of so many young men (collected from different parts of the 
country) possessing talents, dispositions and habits so diverse; to 
secure their affections, to guard their morals, in short, to watch 
for their souls, is a station awfully important. Especially, when 
you consider that the sentiments and habits of young men (trained 
here) will have an influence in society, extending to many places, 
and to future generations. But, however .numerous and weighty 
these obligations, you are encouraged to seek and expect the aid 
and patronage of this board. You are encouraged to seek the 
blessing of God, without which all your endeavors will be unavail- 
ing. 

The Students: 

Young gentlemen, when you consider the station, the duties 
and the responsibilities of those placed over you : that they have 
solemnly engaged to observe the laws, and to promote the interests 
of this institution; do you not feel the varied and strong obligations 
which rest upon you? Do you not feel equally bound? Will not 
Ihe expectation of your parents and friends, your honor and use- 
fulness in future life, together with the dearest interests of society? 
urge you to diligence in study, and circumspection in all yoUV con- 
duct? Let the flattering hopes of your instructors, the good repu- 
tation of this institution, the fond wishes and constant exertions of 
its patrons, all be realized in the character you shall sustain here, 
and bear with you into active life. 

While necessarily associated together, cultivate friendship with 
each other; but let not such intercourse subject you to the influ- 
ence of that demon of lawless insubordination and revenge which 
has often proved a curse to other institutions. Submit to the mild 
and wholesome rules of discipline which have been formed to pro- 
•motc the order, peace and prosperity of this house. Endeavor to 



REV. WILLIAM GRAY's ADDRESS. \>\ 

govern and suppress those wild and lawless passions which would 
lead you astray, the indulgence of which would subject you to the 
goadings of a guilty conscience in future life. 

Let a sense of your youth and inexperience open your ears to 
the instructions of the wise; and be careful to follow the example 
of the good, while you are admonished by the fate of those who, 
though possessed of promising talents, have, by vicious and intem- 
perate courses, blasted their parents' hopes, become a source of 
sorrow to their friends, and a nuisance to society. 

You have assembled here to receive that instruction in litera- 
ture, those impressions in virtue and piety, which are to be the 
foundation of your future character and usefulness in life. 

Probably, in this consecrated place, where the gracious offer of 
salvation is tendered you, by all the endearing considerations and 
compassions of a God of mercy, your fate may be fixed for eternity. 
Here you may either be marked, with the seal of the Holy Spirit, 
to eternal life, or, with the signet of reprobation, to everlasting 
destruction. As sinners, fallen, depraved and guilty, you ought, 
with deep solicitude, to inquire, how you are to escape the wrath 
of a sin hating and sin avenging God. You ought to learn from 
the meek and condescending Saviour how you are to find rest for 
your souls; and, in all your studies, pay particular attention to the 
sacred Scriptures, which are able to make you wis^ unto salvation, 
through faith in Jesus Christ. 

Thus, after having sought, should you find the pearl of great 
price, and obtain the boon of eternal life (the end to which all your 
studies should be made subservient) you will have that wisdom 
which an inspii'ed Apostle desired (exclusively) to enjoy before 
God, and boldly declared to men. You will then leave this Col- 
lege, invested with its honors, crowned with its blessing, with a 
mind well improved, and with a heart filled with love and compas- 
sion towards your fellow men. 

You will then become your parents' joy, your country's boast, 
and, probably, burning and shining lights in the church of God. 

The Citizens Generally : 

Friends, you are also deeply interested in the prosperity of 
this institution; and, after a long series of discouraging circum- 
stances, you are brought to feel that interest, while your prospects 
begin to brighten. 



12 REV. JOHN Thompson's address. 

Your possessions, your families, your souls' present and eternal 
concerns, are deeply involved here. The character and usefulness 
of this institution will, in a certain degree, rise and fall with your 
character; thus you have it in your power to do much for its pros- 
perity. The students must necessarily have intercourse with 
you; your conduct and conversation will have influence with 
them. If you desire your own and your children's welfare, if you 
wish to promote the interests of this College, and to render it use- 
ful to society, cultivate morality and religion among yourselves. 
From your example let those young men learn virtue and piety, 
instead of vice and profanity. Banish from your families and your 
village the gambler, the profane swearer, the drunkard and the 
Sabbath breaker. Let such learn, from the regulations and usages 
of your little society, that you live not exclusively for yourselves, 
but to profit others, and to promote the common interests of man- 
kind. Let virtue, piety and integrity, with all the train of moral 
excellence, characterise you as citizens, and 3^ou will aid this com- 
mon cause, which in return will prove a special and lasting bles- 
sing to you and your families. 



ADDRESS, 
BY THE REV. JOHN THOMPSON, 

ON DELIVERING THE CHARTER, KEYS, &c. TO THE PRESIDENT. 

In testimony of the confidence which this Board of Trustees 
reposes in your talents, endowments and fidelity, the ensignia of 
the superintendence, direction and government of this important 
literary institution, are now committed to your care. [Tendering 
the Charter, Keys, iSfc.'] 

The guardians of this institution are not insensible that your 
task is arduous, your situation trying, your office important and 
highly responsible. 

To lead the youth of our land in the path of literature and sci- 
ence, so as to prepare them for usefulness and respectability in the 
various departments of our Republic, is an undertaking that re- 
quires talents, learning, industry and unremitting perseverance. 
And it is still more difficult to watch over their morals — train 



REV. JOHN Thompson's address. 13 

them to regular habits — and imbue their minds, as far as human 
exertions can effect, with the meliorating influence of our holy 
religion. This, if possible, is more important than the former. — 
Because it is well known that the human mind, improved and ele- 
vated by science without moral principles and habits, is only pre- 
pared to perpetrate crimes of greater magnitude. In such circum- 
stances, knowledgCj instead of terminating in wisdom, guided in 
its course by the love of justice and social order, degenerates into 
selfish craftiness; and renders its possessor a curse to society in- 
stead of a blessing. And how can genuine morality be cultivated 
without the precepts and sanctions of religion ? The experience 
of all ages proves that it cannot. Consequently the great business 
of education sinks from its native dignity, its exalted eminence, 
when conducted so that the Alumni are led to think religion to be 
no part of the qualification of a young gentleman for public life. — 
And where can a religion be found so just to God, so good for man, 
and producing such credentials of its divine original, as that con- 
tained in the Bible ? The sages of antiquity, though heathens^ 
were not ashamed to teach with care the religion of their country; 
much less need we be ashamed to train up our youth in the knowl- 
edge of that religion which has descended from heaven; which on- 
ly can regulate effectually our hearts and lives for comfort and 
usefulness here, and fit us for happiness in the eternal world. And, 
although, from the nature of our institution, principles merely 
sectarian, or such as respect modes, forms and minor diversities 
of opinion, must be excluded; yet, on the broad ground of our 
common Christianity, the great facts, in the knowledge of which 
we are deeply interested — the moral and divine precepts — the 
eternal interests of men — and the glorious hopes presented in the 
gospel — may be successfully inculcated. 

But the governing of such an institution is as difficult and im- 
portant as the task of giving instruction; and the latter cannot 
long succeed well without the former. To combine the dignity 
and authority of the president with the affection of a parent — the 
impartiality and inflexibility of the judge with a sympathizing 
compassion for the victims of youthful folly — an undeviating adhe- 
rence to wholesome laws and regulations, with a discriminating 
discernment of the various shades of defalcation and crime — to 
guide, with firm, steady rein, yet with such discretion as never to 



14 ■ REV. JOHN Thompson's address. 

break the cords with a rash or tyrannical touch, requires such an 
assemblage of qualities — such a natural talent for governing — 
such knowledge of mankind — such insight into the springs of hu- 
man actions — such self-possession, command of temper and pa- 
tience — as fall to the lot of but few of the children of men. 

Although the standing of the head of such an institution is truly 
honorable, arising from the high confidence reposed in him, and 
the importance of the work in which he is engaged; yet it is an 
honor generally purchased at a dear rate. Who that considers 
the trying, vexatious and perplexing circumstances in which he 
is often placed, will envy the worthy gentleman the honor to which 
his talents and industry entitle him ? But nothing substantial and 
permanent can be achieved without exertions in some degree pro- 
portioned to its importance. And Divine Providence has ordered 
matters so wisely that men can often be found possessing a predi- 
lection for the employment, however arduous, which they are 
eminently qualified to engage in with advantage. 

If the duties of president are arduous, and his situation trying 
and perplexing, the responsibility of the station is equally great. 
Our institution is under the fostering hand of our state legislature. 
These guardians of our country's weal cannot avoid glancing theit 
eyes towards the gentleman who directs the vessel freighted with 
materials so precious to our beloved country. 

The trustees, its immediate guardians, are bound by sacred obli- 
gations to watch over the institution, and must ardently desire its 
prosperity. The public eye is directed the same course; patrons, 
friends, desiring, hoping, expecting good success, and enemies 
longing and waiting for our halting. 

Parents and guardians feel a deep interest in the honor, success 
and prosperity of the University, which is to train the minds and 
impress the stamp of respectability on the character of those so 
dear to them. The high expectations of the young gentlemen 
themselves must be met, and, if possible, exceeded. And, above 
all, that God, who, by his providence, has elevated you to this im- 
portant stand, is looking on and recording in his book. To pre- 
serve a conscience void of offence towards God, is paramount to 
all other considerations. And a consciousness of having done so 
will support the mind, should slander hurl her baleful shafts, or 
ingratitude pour out the dregs of her bitter cup. 



DR. bishop's inaugural ADDRESS. 15 

Finally: a glance towards the importance of the institution 
itself, will show the importance of the standing of him who directs 
its energies and holds the reins of its government. This institu- 
tion is a nursery from which we hope to transplant into these im- 
portant stations of society our future Physicians, Counsellors, 
Judges, Statesmen and Divines. We trust that the pulpit, the bar, 
the seat of judgment, o«r representative hall and senate chamber, 
and even the hall of congress, shall be enriched from the fountain 
of science opened in the midst of the western wilderness. 

We hope to see some of these fruits ourselves ; but our chil- 
dren's children to remote ages, shall reap and gather in this inval- 
uable harvest. Important indeed is the standing of him who 
commences and leads to maturity such a seminary of science. — 
But happy shall he be, who, filling the seat with fidelity, shall find 
his labors crowned with success. 

Notwithstanding that this board are deeply impressed with 
these considerations, they cheerfully, without one fear of miscar- 
riage, commit this institution to your care ; assisted, as you shall 
be, by these worthy gentlemen already associated with you, and 
others that may, from time to time, be added to the faculty. Prom- 
ising you all their patronage and influence in so weighty an un- 
dertaking; and praying for the aid and approbation of that God 
whose providence rules over all, and whose smiles give life. If 
Jehovah build the house, they shall not labor in vain who build it. 
If he keep the city, the watchmen shall not watch in vain. 



INAUGURAL ADDRESS, 

BY THE REV. R. H. BISHOP, D. D. PRESIDENT. 

My Friends, 

Our motto at this time is — 

« The Lord hath been mindful of us: he will bless us; he will bless the house of Israel; he 
will bless the house of Aaron. He will bless them that fear the Lord; both small and 
great. The Lord shall increase you more and more, you and your children. Ye are 
hlessed of the Lord which made heaven and earth. The heaven, even the heavens, are 
the Lord's: but the earth hath he given to the children of men. The dead praise not 
the Lord, neither any that go down into silence. But we will bless the Lord from this 
time forth and for evermore. Praise the Lord " [Ps. 115: 12 — 18. 

Two thousand years ago, our fathers were wandering in the 
woods of Germany, or along the northern banks of the Caspian 



1 



16 DR. bishop's inaugural address. 

or Euxine sea, in a situation, in many important respects, worse 
than the present condition of the Indians of North America. 

The God whom they worshipped was a God of cruelty and blood. 
His titles were, the Terrible, the Severe, the Father of Carnage. 
And to this God our fathers, in what they supposed to be a solemn 
act of religious worship, literally sacrificed their own children. — 
Nor had they any higher conception of the joys of a future state 
than those of ceaseless slaughter, and drinking beer out of the 
skulls of their enemies, with a renovation of life to furnish a per- 
petuity of the same enjoyments. 

Greece and Rome, in their proudest days, marked our fathers 
as barbarians ; and the Jews, to whom were committed the oracles 
of the Living God, marked both the Greeks and Barbarians as out- 
casts and aliens; yet, even then. Heaven had plans of mercy, and 
prophecies and promises, respecting those wanderers and outcasts; 
and, in the fulfilment of these promises and prophecies, all these 
marks of misery and disgrace are obliterated. 

It is written : "God shall enlarge Japheth and he shall dwell in 
the tents of Shem." It is further written: "Surely the Isles shall 
wait for me, and the ships of Tarshish first to bring my sons from 
afar, their silver and their gold with them, unto the Lord thy God, 
and to the Holy One of Israel, because he hath glorified thee." — 
We are this day, my friends, witnesses for God, that these are the 
words of him who knew the end from the beginning. We are the 
children of those who were outcasts and barbarians — but we are 
all recognized as sons of the Highest; and we are this day in full 
possession of privileges and attainments which as far surpass the 
privileges of the Jews as the meridian splendor surpasses the 
light and the heat of early dawn; and we are as far superior to 
the boasted attainments of Greece and Rome as the light of Heav- 
en and the arrangements of Nature exceed the feeble and the nar- 
row contrivances of man. 

Nor as men, have we any reason to be ashamed of our ances- 
tors. In the most triumphant, as well as in the most effeminate 
days of Persia, and of Greece and Rome, they were a hardy and 
frugal, and, in the language of the world, an industrious and virtu- 
ous people, commanding the northern countries of Asia and Eu- 
rope; and while they were never subdued themselves, they, on 
various occasions, furnished the means by which kingdoms and 



DR. bishop's inaugural address. 17 

empires were overturned and a new order of things was established . 

Twelve or fourteen hundred years ago these people took posses- 
sion of the British Isles; and, animating all their institutions with 
the spirit of freedom^ and liberty, and research, they soon became 
strong at home, and formidable abroad. And, from that day to 
this, their ships have traversed every sea, and their colonies have 
been planted under every climate; and their warriors, and arti- 
sans, and scholars, have visited all the nations of the earth* 

Two hundred years ago an important branch of this stock was 
planted on the eastern shore of the vast continent of North Ameri- 
ca. It has taken deep root, and has preserved all the vigor of the 
original stem in its best days. It has been plentifully watered by 
the dews and the rains of Heaven; the meridian sun has commu- 
nicated to it its most invigorating influence; and it now overspreads 
a tract of country, which, in extent and natural advantages, can 
be compared with any other tract on the surface of the earth. 

We are met this day, my friends, under circumstances not- alto- 
gether dissimilar to those under which our fathers often met, 
both in the old and the new world. When our situation this day 
is compared with that of Oxford, in Old England, or with that of 
Cambridge, in New England ; we are the rough and poverty strick- 
en, and the half tutored barbarians; and the students, and tutors^, 
and fellows, and professors, and chancellors, and the other high 
sounding titled officers connected with these ancient institutions, 
are the sons of the arts and the sciences, and of plenty, and of ease 
and elegance. Yet, all things considered, our situation this day is, 
perhaps, as encouraging as that of Oxford, in Old England, was 
in the days of Alfred, or that of Cambridge, in New England, not 
two hundred years ago. 

Not sixty years ago, all the country west and south of the Alle- 
gheny mountains was a wilderness. There are now in that region 
nine states and three territories; and a population of not less than 
three millions. 

Twenty years ago the state of Ohio was just organized, with a 
population of not more than forty thousand. In 1792 Volney 
describes Cincinnati as not much superior to an Indian village. — 
We have now a population of upwards of 600,000; and we have 
farms, and cities, and manufacturing establishments, which vie 
with those of the oldest states in the Union. Other sixty years 

3 



18 DR. bishop's inaugural address. 

hence, and the population and improvements will, in all probabili- 
ty, be extended to the Pacific ocean. 

There is something in the origin and progress of the people of 
the United States which has given them a spirit of enterprise, and 
an elevation of character, which have as yet distinguished no other 
people upon the face of the earth. Ignorance, and barbarism, and 
fable, furnish no materials in the history of these people. We 
here behold a people, in the full possession of the arts and scien- 
ces, and under the influence of a benign and heavenly religion; ta- 
king possession of a continent, and springing up at once, a mighty 
nation. 

We are, my friends, in the good providence of God, a part of 
this mighty nation. The institution which we are now organi- 
zing is one of the outfosts of her extended and extending posses- 
sions. Only a generation hence, and what is now an outpost will 
be the centre. To dwell at any length, at this time, on the use of 
Colleges and Universities, must be, in a great measure, unneces- 
sary. It is my happiness this day to address men who have seen, 
with their own eyes, and who have examined for their own indivi • 
dual improvement, schools, and colleges, and universities of every 
description : and, having in early life enjoyed the advantages of 
these, have, for half a life time, been giving to their own families 
and neighborhoods, and to the nation at large, a practical illus- 
tration of the value of all such institutions. 

We need not, at this day, repeat that both the moral and phys- 
ical strength of a community depends, under God, solely on the 
number of well informed individuals which that community may 
be able to call its own. Nor need we say that, all other things 
being equal, that individual will be the best informed, who, in the 
early period of his life, has had the greatest number of well se- 
lected and well arranged facts set before him. Nor need we an- 
nounce that a college or a university is an institution where the 
acquirements, and the experience, and the history of the world, 
are arranged and detailed for the express purpose of informing 
the human mind; and for fitting every individual who may spend 
a reasonable time within its walls to be a kind of university him- 
self, to his own and to the succeeding generations. 

Time was when the personal advantages of a liberal education 
were, in a great measure, confined to the professional characters. 



DR. bishop's inaugural ADDRESS. 19 

It is not so now. A diffusion ofcven scientific knowledge is, in the 
United States at least, now nearly as extensive as that of air and 
water. It is the birthright of every citizen of the United States to 
aspire to the highest honors and to the highest trusts which twelve 
millions of free and enlightened citizens can bestow. And it is 
equally his birthright to enjoy, in early life, the means by which 
he may be fitted for filling, with dignity, every one of these import- 
ant and honorable departments. And since to be worthy of the 
suffrages of enlightened men, and to be qualified to rule over en- 
lightened men, must require attainments of a very different kind 
from those which are necessary to manage the affairs of a rude and 
ignorant multitude; the true value of scientific acquirements can 
only be known and felt in an enlightened community. Hence the 
youth of the United States have inducements to aspire to intellec- 
tual and moral improvement which are presented to the youth- of 
no other country under the sun. 

Equality, with respect to the enjoyment of civil and religious 
rights, is a great and most valuable privilege. But this privilege 
may be secured by the constitution of a country, and even to a 
great extent by the laws and by the administration; and yet all 
the offices of power and trust, and nearly all that gives character 
to the nation, be chiefly confined to the individuals belonging to 
certain classes. The land of our fathers is a country of this kind. 
In the United States it is otherwise. There is here an equality with 
respect to the acquiring and enjoyment of wealth, and an equality 
in our daily social intercourse with one another, which is unknown 
in every other country under the sun ; and which has an influence 
in producing, and perfecting, and bringing forth into exercise, in- 
tellectual and moral talents, to a degree of which those who have 
never seen it can have no adequate conception. And the same 
causes which originally produced this equality in the United States, 
will continue to operate in the northern and western states partic- 
ularly, for generations hence. 

It is from this fact, rather than from any other, that we are en- 
couraged to hope that the Miami University will increase with res- 
pect to resources and influence, with the increase of the resources 
and influence of the Western States. The states on this side of the 
Ohio River are ^to be filled up with a hardy and industrious race 
of men. And while these men shall, with their own hands, culti- 



^0 Dr. bishop^s inaugural address. 

Vate their own soil, they shall, in all ordinary cases, have an 
abundance of the necessaries of life. And while every one will 
not be ashamed of laboring with his hands, the blessing of heaven 
upon his honest and daily labor will afford him and his children 
ample means for intellectual and moral improvement. A taste for 
reading and study, and a continued desire to become acquainted 
with the history and the improvements of the day, will, then, in 
some measure, mix with the plans and pursuits of every head of a 
family, and will be by him infused, to a certain degree, into the 
character of every one of his sons. And while, from a population 
of this kind, we are not to expect a great number of what, in Eu- 
rope, would be called learned and scientific characters, yet a full 
share of them will unavoidably be produced ; and from almost ev- 
ery family will spring up men, and women too, who will under- 
stand and appreciate all that is valuable in the whole circle of the 
arts and sciences. In such a country, and among such a people, 
schools and colleges of every description cannot fail to receive an 
ample support. 

It may, therefore, be by no means an unprofitable exercise sim- 
ply to sketch out, at this time, the nature and the kind of support 
which the Miami University, and other institutions of a similar 
nature, must have, from the community at large, if ever they are to 
be permanent and extensive public blessings. 

And, in the first place, we must take it for granted that every 
head of a family, and every man who has any influence, will exert 
himself, in his proper sphere, to extend the influence of common 
English schools, and of grammar schools, by which the youth of 
the land may be prepared for entering colleges and universities. 
To make our children worthy of our fathers, a common English 
education, and a good grammar school education must be within 
the reach of every man's family. The Miami country, and a vast 
tract of land to the west and the north of this district, is rich, and 
is to be rich for ages in producing human and immortal beings, as 
well as in producing all that is necessary for the support of ani- 
mal life. And the soil is to be cultivated by the lords of the soil 
and by their children. We could name one father of a family in 
this district, who has prepared all his sons for college, and who 
has supported some of these sons at college, by making his sons at 
once farmers and scholars. The sons have had, from their boy- 



DR. bishop's inaugural ADDRESS. 21 

hood to their maturity, their study and their laboring hours; their 
study and their laboring weeks ; and, while attending college, their 
study and their laboring months; and, in this way, the mind and 
the body have been mutually invigorated and supported. An inde- 
pendence of mind, and an independence of fortune, and a strength 
and vigor of mind and body, have been thus cherished, and secured, 
and perfected; compared with which the largest hereditary states 
among the lordships and dukedoms of Europe are perfect insignifi- 
cance. Now, with but very little exertion, but with a combined and 
well directed exertion, the whole country from which the Miami 
University is to derive its chief resources, may be filled with such 
noblemen of nature. Every family and every neighborhood, has 
Entirely at its own command the means of preparing any given 
number of its sons for entering the regular classes of the universi- 
ty. And in this way a healthy and virtuous, and really learned 
population, may be continued till the end of time. Every family 
may thus, in fact, be a body of well informed scientific men. 

Nor will the youth, thus prepared, ever disappoint the expecta- 
tions of their fathers, or mothers, or country. No fashionable 
amusements — ^none of the seductive arts which mark the degener- 
acy of an age or of a country, will be necessary to recommend 
literature and science to youth of this description. The stores of 
ancient and modern discoveries will only need to be pointed out to 
such youth; and they will grasp them and make them their own 
at once. 

The report of the joint committee of last assembly, and the act 
which was the result of that report, to provide for the support and 
better regulation of common schools, will, if followed up and acted 
on by the people at large, form an era in the history of Ohio. Com- 
mon English schools, and academies, and colleges mutually act 
and react upon each other. They are in fact all essential parts 
of one great whole. Wherever you find a region of country stud- 
ded with grammar schools, you will find in the centre a flourish- 
ing college or university ; and wherever a school of the higher 
order rears its head and gets into successful operation, the neigh- 
boring country will not be long without its institutions, in which 
the elements of a good substantial education will be successfully 
taught. 

We proceed, however, to state, 

II. That a university, to be a public and permanent blessing, 



22 DR. bishop's inaugural address. 

must have, from the community at large, a large share of pecunia- 
ry support. All the improvements and discoveries of the world 
are, in some form or other, to be brought into and exhibited within 
the walls of a university. The means to procure these improve- 
ments and discoveries, and to exhibit them to advantage, within a 
given time, must, therefore, be furnished, or you cannot have a 
university. 

The Miami University, is, in the ordinary language of the day, 
liberally endowed. It is liberally endowed when compared with 
a common school; and it is liberally endowed when compared with 
many other chartered colleges in the United States. But for the 
purpose of accomplishing, within a reasonable time, the great end 
of either a college or a university, its present funds are by no 
means adequate. We have, likely, enough for the permanent 
support of the necessary number of instructors, and for keeping 
the buildings which are erected in good repair; but to make your 
present officers and their successors useful, you must furnish them 
with other means. A library is needed; a philosophical and chem- 
ical apparatus is needed; additional buildings are needed; and to 
furnish these worthy of the Miami University, and worthy of the 
population, which, in less than half a generation, will be within 
forty miles of Oxford, a sum of not less than sixty or seventy 
thousand dollars is necessary. And to illustrate this, nothing 
more is necessary than to attend to the history of other institu- 
tions of the kind. 

Yale College was founded in 1700, and began with a fund of 
forty volumes folio, the donation of nearly as many individuals, 
value thirty pounds sterling. In 1714, 16, 19 and 20, this fund 
was increased by donations of various kinds, but particularly in 
books and money, to the amount of three thousand pounds sterling; 
and a building 170 feet long, 22 feet wide, and 3 stories high, con- 
taining fifty study rooms, was erected. In 1732 the general as- 
sembly granted to the college 1500 acres of land. In the same 
year Bishop Berkely,of Cloyne, in Ireland, bestowed upon the in- 
stitution 1000 volumes of books, valued at 400 pounds sterling; and 
a farm in Rhode Island, to bring annually, for 999 years, a rent of 
30 pounds sterling. 

In 1745 the assembly made a farther grant of 100 pounds, to be 
paid annually during its pleasure; and in 1750, the same honora- 
ble body furnished the means of erecting another elegant and con- 



DR. bishop's inaugural ADDRESS. 23 

venient building for the use of the college, to be called Connecticut 
Hall. 

Between the years 1746 and 1758, funds were collected from 
various sources, to endow a professorship and to erect a house for 
the professor. And in 1761 a chapel 50 feet long and 14 feet wide, 
with a steeple and galleries, were erected by subscription. 

In 1770 the assembly furnished another considerable sum to 
found a professorship of Mathematics and Natural Philosophy; 
and, in 1782, Daniel Lathrop, of Norwich, bequeathed, for the use 
of the college, 500 pounds sterling. In the same year a new brick 
Hall was erected, 60 feet in length and 30 feet in breadth. 

Between the years 1787 and 89, a few friends on both sides of 
the Atlantic united their influence and efforts, and purchased in 
London, and delivered, free of expense, to the college at New Ha- 
ve*!, a complete philosophical apparatus. 

This may serve as a specimen of the manner in which Yale Col- 
lege was supplied with funds during the first eighty years of her 
existence. The present state of Yale College is a president, ten 
professors, and 462 students. 

Dartmouth College, in New Hampshire, was founded in 1770. — 
Its original fund was something about 10,000 pounds sterling, col- 
lected in Great Britain, chiefly under the influence and patronage 
of Lord Dartmouth, and lands given by the state of New Hamp- 
shire, to the amount of 30,000 acres. In 1785 the state of New 
Hampshire and the state of Vermont gave each a township of land 
to the college, amounting in all to 46,000 acres. Generally speak- 
ing, there are betwixt one hundred and fifty and two hundred 
residents at Dartmouth College. Something like fourteen hun- 
dred have passed through a regular course there; and of these up- 
wards of three hundred have been ordained to the work of the 
gospel ministry. 

A similar statement of the rise and progress and the present 
state of other flourishing and useful colleges in the United States 
might be given; but what has been exhibited is, we presume, suf- 
ficient for our present purpose. 

We are, gentlemen and friends, in holy Providence, intrusted 
with the literary character of a large portion of the populous and 
flourishing state of Ohio; and we have, to the west and north of 
us, an Empire which may also receive its future character and 



24 DR. BISPIOP'S INAUGURAL ADDRESS. 

destiny from us. To discharge our duty to the present and suc- 
ceeding generation, we must be impressed with a just sense of the 
importance of our trust. The magnitude of the object to be accom- 
plished, must be fully and always before us 5 and the pecuniary 
means, to secure the accomplishment of this object, must be am- 
ple in order to be adequate. 

We ask not for funds which would render either us or our suc- 
cessors in office independent of the good will of the community — 
but we would state, in express terms, to the fathers and mothers, 
to the patriots and christians of the present generation, that, to 
render the Miami University worthy of its name, and to make 
it really a University to the rising generation, we must have a 
library, and a philosophical and chemical apparatus, and additional 
buildings; and that, to procure these, a sum of at least sixty or 
seventy thousand dollars in addition to the present funds of the 
university is necessary. 

The value of Yale, Dartmouth and Princeton colleges is known, 
and is duly appreciated, not only in the United States, but over 
half the world. Nor can any data be given by which you can 
calculate the wealth which these institutions have created in their 
immediate neighborhoods, and in the United States. The Miami 
University aims at nothing more, and she would be unworthy of 
her name and of the patronage of the public, if she aimed at any 
thing less, than to be to the people north and west of the Ohio 
river what these distinguished institutions have been and still are 
to their respective states and neighborhoods. But to make her so, 
she must have the same fostering hand of munificence by which 
these nurseries of literature, and of science, and of piety, have been 
reared and supported. 

The charge of parsimony has often been brought against Democ- 
racies. Terms vary their meaning with their application. It is 
true that Democracies have been sparing of their money when 
mere amusement or sensual indulgence has been the object. And 
they have been sparing of their money in giving high salaries to 
their officers, and bestowing pensions on individuals and families 
for which there have been no adequate services performed. But 
it is not true that Democracies have been sparing of their money, 
or of their lives either, when the real good of the community was 
at stake. The mass of the people may be misinformed, or they 



DR. bishop's inaugural address. 25 

may be led astray on some particular occasion ; but the people must 
always be faithful to themselves so far as they have the means of 
information; and they may always be safely intrusted with the 
disposal of their own money. Let the mass of the people then— ^ 
let the fathers and the mothers and patriots in the western divi-' 
sion of the state of Ohio be fully informed: let them know that 
it is their interest, and the interest of their children, and of their 
children's children, to furnish the Miami University with a Libra- 
ry, and with a philosophical and chemical apparatus, and with ad- 
ditional buildings: and whatever is necessary for accomplishing 
these objects, shall, within a reasonable time, be cheerfully fur- 
nished.* 

We proceed, however, to call your attention to another class of 
facts. 

No institution of learning, by^whatever name it is known, can 
be a real and permanent blessing to the community, unless it is in- 
separably connected with the religion of our Lord Jesus — the reli- 
gion of the Bible. Many facts might be brought to illustrate this. 

It is the glory of this religion that it is adapted to the present 
state of man, and to the state of every man, in every state of soci- 
ety. It is, in fact, the only religion which has ever proposed to 
be a general and universal good. Hence all the institutions of this 
religion have for their object the general diffusion of knowledge; and 
in these institutions every individual, whether rich or poor, learned 
or illiterate, standing high in society, or belonging to the dregs of 
the people — every individual is here addressed a"s an important be- 
ing — as a being endowed with a rational and immortal soul — with a 
soul whose energies shall be expanding while eternity itself shall 

* However desirable it might be to have at once and immediately, 
the whole of what is really necessary for the complete endowment and 
complete operation of the Miami University, it is not to be expected 
that the object can be accomplished for several years. The institution 
must grow with the growth, and strengthen with the strength, of the 
surrounding country. Let it, however, be distinctly remembered, and 
let it be yearly, in some form or other, stated, that sixty or seventy 
thousand dollars, at least, are still wanting to make the institution what 
it ought to be. It would be well also, for the friends of literature and 
the prosperity of the country, to consider the various ways and means 
by which all that is necessary might be procured. 

4 



'26 DR. bishop's inaugural address. 

last. Hence these institutions are not only well adapted to bring 
into exercise all the powers of the human mind, but also to bring 
into vigorous and profitable exercise all the intellectual and moral 
powers of every individual of the community. The religion of the 
Bible, then, must, from its very nature, be one of the most power- 
ful auxiliaries to every institution which has for its object the im- 
provement of the human mind. 

Again: The declared object of schools of every kind, and par- 
ticularly the declared object of the higher schools, such as colleges 
and universities, is to elevate the intellectual and moral character 
of man : and, if possible, to produce a state of things in which igno- 
rance and vice shall scarcely be known. But the Bible alone gives 
us any rational assurance that such a state of things is attainable ; 
and it farther informs us, in plain terms, that that state shall be 
produced, and produced only by the universal influence of the Gos- 
pel of God's Son. When man shall be generally created anew 
in Jesus Christ, and not till then, shall man be again exhibited in 
the image of his Maker. When the fear and the knowledge of 
the Lord shall cover the earth as the waters cover the sea, and not 
till then, shall there be nothing to hurt or destroy in human soci- 
ety. . Farther: It is plainly announced that of the increase of 
Messiah's government and peace there shall be no end ; and that 
this government is ultimately to swallow up or annihilate all oth- 
er kingdoms and interests. The stone which is cut out of the 
mountains without hands, is to crush all the kingdoms of the earth ; 
and is to become a great mountain and fill the earth. Hence it 
follows that every institution of literature and science, which is 
not identified with the interests of our Lord's kingdom, must be- 
long to that system which is to be destroyed by the breath of his 
mouth and the brightness of his coming; and shall as certainly per- 
ish as Pagan and Antichristian Rome shall perish, in God's giving 
the heathen to his Son for his inheritance and the uttermost ends of the 
earth for his possession. And hence it follows, farther, that every 
attempt to promote literature and science unconnected with the 
religion of our Lord Jesus, must be warring against heaven, and 
must, in the issue, be destructive of the best interests of man. 

In fine: Man, as an individual, is soon, very soon, to be done 
with all below the sun. His relation to civil society is short, and 
the destiny of empires or of worlds is but a small matter when 



DR. bishop's inaugural ADDRESS. 27 

compared with his own individual destiny. That system of edu- 
cation, therefore, must be radically defective, which does not, in 
all its arrangements, view every pupil as at once a mortal and an 
immortal being. And we know that the religion of our Lord Jesus 
alone has brought life and immortality to light, and that there is 
not another name under heaven given among men, whereby men 
must be saved, but this blessed name. 

• But how, it is asked, would you connect the interests of the 
Miami University with the religion of the Bible? In the very 
same way in which its interests must, in the very nature of things, 
be inseparably connected with the best interests of the state of 
Ohio, and with the best interests of the western country. 

We are not ashamed to avow our belief that, without the contin- 
ued blessing of heaven, the University cannot be a blessing to the 
community. Except the Lord build the house they labor in vain who 
build it. Nor are we ashamed to avow our belief that we have no 
reason to expect this blessing but as the fruit of united and contin- 
ued prayers. We ask, then, and publicly ask, the continued and 
united prayers of all God's people. When, in their daily and 
weekly prayers, they say, "May thy kingdom come," let them add, 
as included in that petition. May the Miami University, and all the 
and colleges of our country, be identified with that kingdom, which 
schools shall never be destroyed. May wisdom, and integrity, and 
intellectual and moral talent of every description, be communicated 
from the Father of Mercies and the Father of Lights, to all the 
instructors and all the pupils of all our schools and colleges; and 
may all this mass of intellect and information be under the con- 
trol of Him who is to reign forever. 

Again : In the proposed plan of education in the Miami Univer- 
sity, the Bible itself is to hold a prominent place. It is to be in the 
hands of every pupil, and is to be regularly and frequently refer- 
red to. It is sincerely believed that the Bible is the source of all 
intellectual as well as all moral strength; and that the human 
mind will be able to comprehend the works of God, and particular- 
ly be able to understand the nature of man and the principles of 
God's government of the world, just in proportion as it may be 
able to understand and comprehend God's word. Hence the stu- 
dy of the Bible, the study of its histories, of its doctrines and mor- 
als, of its prophecies, of its institutions, shall be connected, in 



28 DR.' bishop's inaugural address. 

the Miami University, with the study of all other history, and 
with the study of all other systems of religion, and morals, and 
jurisprudence. 

The christian religion is the avowed religion of our common 
country; and the Bible is the only source from which a knowledge 
of the principles of this religion, and of its peculiar characteristics, 
can be derived. The Bible, therefore, demands a high standing 
among the books which ought to be studied by the youth of the 
United States. 

The professed christians of the United States are, indeed, like 
men every where else, where freedom of inquiry and freedom of 
choice are enjoyed : they are connected with a considerable num- 
ber of differently organized societies. But all these different divi- 
sions agree in appealing to the Bible as the standard of their faith, 
and as the only infallible rule of conduct; and, however much the 
members of these different societies may differ as to the modes of 
church government, and modes of worship, and peculiar phrases 
in explaining some of the more abstruse doctrines, yet the great 
body of them agree in holding fast, substantially and unequivocal- 
ly, the leading doctrines of revelation. To the serious christian 
of every denomination, therefore — to all in fact who recognize the 
Bible to be the word of God — it must be desirable that their children, 
and the children of their friends, and the youth of their common 
country, be early and familiarly acquainted with all that is con- 
tained in the Bible. 

We need not add that, under the influence of the daily use of the 
Bible, the Sabbath, within the walls of the Miami University, shall 
be devoted to devotion and to the study of the Bible; and that the 
morals and deportment of the students and the officers shall, so far 
as discipline and authority, and example, can extend, be such as to 
afford no inconsiderable evidence that wisdom's ways are ways of 
pleasantness and that all her paths are peace. 

The age in which Providence has cast our lot is distinguished 
for the variety and extent of its schemes and improvements. — 
These mighty preparations and mighty exertions portend no ordi- 
nary results. The empire of the world, the command of the hu- 
man family, is at stake; and the champions who are in the field, 
and who are mustering their forces, are no less personages than 
the prince of darkness, the arch-fiend of the bottomless pit, on the 



DR. bishop's inaugural ADDRESS. 29 

one side, and Messiah, the seed of the woman and the Lord Jeho- 
vah, on the other. And it will hold true with respect to institu- 
tions of learning as well as with respect to kingdoms and individ- 
uals. He who is not for me is against me, and he w7io gathereth not 
with me scattereth abroad^ 

Nor shall the identifying of our institution of learning with the 
kingdom and with the triumphs of Messiah, impede the progress of 
the human mind in its discoveries and improvements. He that 
planted the ear, shall he not hear? He who formed the eye, shall he 
not see? He who teacheth men knowledge, shall he not hiow? The 
God of the Bible is the God of creation. In the Bible all the differ- 
ent departments of the universe are again and again called on to 
praise him. And they do praise him, by unfolding their various 
stores to the mind of man, the lord of the lower world and the 
high priest of creation. The works of the Lord are great; sought 
out of all them that have pleasure in them. 

Genuine piety cheerfully acknowledges the God of the Bible as 
the Father of Lights, as the only source of genuine intelligence; — 
and it applies to natural as well as moral science the admonition 
and encouragement : If any of you lack wisdom, let him ask of God, 
who giveth to all men liberally and upbraideth not, and it shall be 
given him. 
.- We close. 

We are admonished, by the events of this day, that we are mor- 
tal beings. One generation passeth away and another cometh ; 
but the earth abideth for ever. We are organizing a new insti- 
tution in a new country, literally in the midst of the western for- 
ests; -but we are also standing upon the ashes of the dead. The 
workmen who undertook the erection of this building, and who 
laid its deep and firm foundation, lived not to see their contract 
fulfilled-; the worthy father who organized, and who taught the 
first school which was taught under the authority of the corpora- 
tion, has been called home to the better country; and a considera- 
ble number of other friends who, during the last fifteen years, 
were in their places, active and successful in making arrangements 
to receive, within a given time, a complete course of collegiate ■ed- 
ucation in this spot, have also disappeared. Whatsoever, then, our 
handfndeth to do, let us do it, in our place, with our might; for there 
is no work, nor wisdom, nor device in the grave whither ice go. 



30 DR. bishop's inaugural address. 

It is but little, a very little, that the most active and best quali- 
fied among us can do in the short space which is allotted us. Five, 
ten, fifteen or twenty years hence, and the most active and healthy 
among us will be with his fathers. The place which this day 
knows us will, by that time, know us again no more forever. 
We need the continued and united assistance of one another, and 
of every individual in the community. Personal aggrandizement, 
or personal emolument, can be of no use to us, but for the good of 
the community and for the good of the next generation. But, if 
our individual destiny is connected with the destiny and personal 
glory of the living Head of the New Covenant, and, if the Miami 
University shall be recognised by him as under his protection and 
government, our personal labors, however feeble, or however cir- 
cumscribed, will not be lost in the general reckoning. 

It is but little,avery little, that the most extensive and best or- 
ganized connection of individuals can do in the short space of five, 
ten or fifteen years : but it is God's plan to accomplish great and 
important results by the use of very simple means, and these 
means acting within very limited spheres. The combined and 
continued influence of air, and water, and heat, and soil, is neces- 
sary for the production and perfection of the least and of the most 
obscure of vegetables ; and nothing more is necessary, and nothing 
less is sufficient, for the production and perfection of all that vari- 
ety of vegetation which covers the surface of the earth, and which 
has covered the surface of the earth from the beginning. 

It is God's plan that the whole surface of this earth shall be 
redeemed from the power and the pollution of moral corruption. 
And, for the accomplishment of this plan, a long space of time is 
allotted : six, seven, or eight, or, it may be, ten thousand years. 
A vast number of generations and a vast number of the individu- 
als of every generation, and of every nation, are to be employed 
in this great and good work. To the Redeemer every knee shall 
bow, and all nations shall serve him. And if it is only our happi- 
ness to be workers with God in this great work, we shall, in the 
light of eternity, see the whole. Standing upon heaven's high 
battlement, we shall see its beginning; its progress; its particular 
situation in every period of its history; and its consummation. — 
And it will be a glorious and most enchanting whole. And our 
little schemes, and our feeble exertions, and our confined spheres 
of action, will become great schemes and mighty exertions, and 



Dfl. bishop's ADDRESSES. 31 

most extensive spheres of action, when they shall be found to have 
been inseparably connected with this most commanding whole. 



ADDRESSES, 
BY THE REV. R. H. BISHOP, D. D. PRESIDENT, 

to the graduates of miami university, of the years 1 829 34. 

My Young Friends, 

You this day stand on an eminence. It is with respect to 
yourselves, the dividing line betwixt the youth and the man: 
and, with respect to others, it is the Isthmus betwixt two genera- 
tions. You have, in the good providence of God, finished one pe- 
riod of your earthly career, and if your lives and health shall be 
preserved, you are immediately to push forward into new and 
untried situations. 

You have an imperfect recollection of the circumstances attend- 
ing your lot when your attention was first directed to letters and 
syllables; you were then just opening your eyes upon the light 
of day, and only beginning to know and feel that you were mo- 
ral and intellectual beings. You have a more distinct recol- 
lection of your plans arid prospects, when you had finished the 
ordinary course of reading, and writing, and arithmetic. Your 
standing, at that period was high, when compared with the situa- 
tion of many youth of the same age, in countries which are far 
from being ranked among the uncivilized. Still, however, you 
were only in infancy. You had heard of Greece and Rome, of 
Locke and Newton, and of oratory and philosophy, and of men 
who understood, and who could explain the motions and revolu- 
tions of the sun, and the moon, and the stars, and who were ac- 
quainted with the cause of the rise and fall of empires : and 
you had a growing anxiety to see and to examine, and understand 
for yourselves, these and similar subjects. And this strong and 
increasing anxiety brought you within these walls; and it has 
now carried you through a pretty long and extensive course of 
study. 

With very few exceptions, as is the boy or the youth, so is the 
man. The man acting in public life, is only unfolding and ex- 
hibiting, upon a more extended sphere of action, the principles 



32 DR. bishop's addresses. 

which were cherished and strengthened, and brought to a consi- 
derable degree of maturity in the nursery, the private school, and 
the college. Hence you may, even at this early period of your 
lives, form a pretty accurate estimate of what will be the lead- 
ing features in your characters in the various situations in 
which your future lots may be cast. A young man, who at your 
time of life, is indolent or stubborn, and self-willed, or immoral 
or irregular in his habits, cannot give much encouragement to his 
friends, that he will be distinguished for attention to any business 
with which he may be intrusted. But on the other hand, the young 
man who, on finishing his college course, has acquired the habits 
of application, and self-government, and who not only knows but 
who feels the influence of religious and moral principles, such a 
young man, bids fair to be an ornament to every class of men 
with which he may be connected, and an extensive blessing to un- 
born generations. 

From a pretty extensive acquaintance with each of you, we 
can publicly say, "that as yet, no one of you belongs to the class 
of the indolent and the immoral." Without any hesitation, we 
say to your friends and to the public, that you are thus far, prom- 
ising young men : that the labor and the expense bestowed upon 
you by instructors and parents, and other friends, have not been 
bestowed in vain. But God only knows what will be your future 
characters. 

Though you have finished, and finished with credit to your- 
selves, an important part of your course, yet you are only enter- 
ing upon life. Your character is yet unformed. Another period 
of five, or six, or ten years, is still required to determine the im- 
portant question: whether you are to be a blessing, or a curse to 
the community. We hope, however, the best of every one of 
you, and from all that we know of you, we have a strong confi- 
dence that the expectations of your fathers and mothers, and other 
friends will not be disappointed. 

In parting with you, we cannot, at this late hour, give you any 
new information. Nor can we bring before you any motives to 
worthy and useful conduct which have not again, and again, both 
in public and in private, been urged upon you. You have acquir- 
ed a competent knowledge of the powers of your own minds, 
and of the nature and use of language. You have acquired hab- 
its of attention, and research, and reflection. Your memories and 



DR. bishop's addresses. 33 

judgments are tolerably well supplied with a variety of important 
facts and principles derived from the history of man, and from 
the history of science and literature. And, above all, it is to be 
added, that you are the sons of christian fathers and christian 
mothers, that from your very infancy, and through the whole of 
your course of education, the Bible has been open to you, and 
that with the facts and principles of this infallible record every 
one of you is familiar. Nor is evidence wanting, that most of 
you personally know the value of that precious volume: and 
know also the encouragement which you have, as weak and help- 
less and guilty creatures, to hope in the divine mercy, and to live 
in his fear, and under his protection. With these principles and 
these hopes, though you may have your difficulties and your dan- 
gers in passing through life, yet we can with confidence say, that 
your latter end will be safe and triumphant. 

In less than one hour hence you part — and part never more to 
meet again, either within these walls, or any where else, till all the 
individuals of all the generations of men shall be collected to- 
gether in one vast assembly. 

You are not ignorant of the solemnities which will distinguish 
that eventful day. You know also what will render that day, to 
any individual, a day of joy and gladness, or a day of shame and 
sorrow. Shall we meet then — but meet only to part again and 
to part forever? or shall we then meet to enjoy one another, and 
all that is good, while immortality itself lasts ? 

What may be your particular situations in passing through life 
where you may reside — how often and under what circumstances 
you may move from one place to another — who will be your as- 
sociates, your assistants or antagonists — whether your period of 
life and action shall be long or short — and whether your career 
shall be marked with prosperity or adversity — these and a thou- 
sand other circumstances of great importance to your comfort 
and usefulness are all unknown to me, and to you, and to your 
most intimate friends. 

Your Father who is in Heaven, knows them all; and if you 
know him that is enough. He has arranged them all. He is 
your creator, your preserver, and will be your judge. Take him 
as your God, and your guide, and your everlasting portion, and 
all will be well with you both in time and eternity. 

5 



34 DR. bishop's addresses. 

Gentlemen Trustees, and other Friends, 

We have another occasion to set up our Ebenezer, and to say, 
"hitherto hath the Lord helped us." We this day return to their 
fathers and mothers, and through them present to our common 
country and to the next generation, another class of promising 
young men. During a four year's course of nearly uninterrupt- 
.ed study, their lives and their health have been preserved in 
vigor. The necessaries and comforts of life have been regular- 
ly furnished themj they have been in all things, and at all times, 
obedient to the authority of the institution : — no academical cen- 
sure has, at any period, been inflicted upon any one of them: 
they have been uniformly affectionate and respectful in their in- 
tercourse with one another — and have commanded, it is believed, 
the respect and the affection of all with whom they have been 
connected in Oxford and its vicinity ; and, though we may be mis- 
taken, yet we are pretty confident, that their natural talents and 
their literary and scientlfiG acquirements will not, when put to a full 
and fair trial, occasion any dishonor either to themselves, or to 
their friends, or to their country. 

Thirty years ago all the region on this side the Ohio, from its 
source to its mouth, and from its banks to the great lakes, was one 
vast wilderness. The most of you saw it in that state ; and you 
pitched your tents and located your families and the families of 
your friends, in its heavy and thick forests. The bodily labor, 
the anxieties of mindj the plans and the pursuits, and the tear and 
wear, and extinction of animal life, which have been witnessed in 
this region, during that period, exceed our calculations. But we 
know, and see, and feel, and enjoy the results. Among these re- 
sults are the thousands of young men springing up in peace and 
plenty on the tarms, and in the villages and cities, which now 
cover this extended country of hill and dale, and of brooks and 
rivers, and fertile fields, and healthy atmosphere. 

This fine country was not settled by hordes of hunters or of 
shepherds; much less was it settled by the fragments of worn out 
regiments, or disbanded armies; or by the refuse of the population 
of such places as London or Paris, or ancient or modern Rome.-^- 
The emigrants to this country were free men and free women, 
and they were the sons and the daughters of free men; and, at the 
very time of their pitching their tents in these forests, they were 



I 



! 



DR. bishop's addresses. 35- 

in possession of all the useful and ornamental artsj and they sat 
down with the determination not only to clear and to cultivate the 
soil, but to cherish and to perfect plants of a nobler kind — plants 
of immortality. Hence almost every family had its library; and 
almost every county town had, from the beginning, its printing 
press, and its weekly paper ; and every week's mail, and every 
package of goods, brought publications from the Atlantic cities and 
from Europe. Hence, also, in the division of the land, as in the 
division of the land of promise, under the direction of Jehovah, a 
definite portion of the soil, and of all its improvements, was devo- 
ted to the support of literary and religious institutions. And hence 
we have seen the Bible, and systems of theology, and systems of 
politics, and the classics of ancient Greece and Rome, and Euclid, 
and Euler, and Newton, and Reid, and Stewart, and Addison — we 
have seen these in the log cabin ; and we have seen them studied, and 
their value appreciated, by the old and by the young, where a Euro- 
pean would expect to find all belonging to society but very little 
removed from the savage state. 

Time was when literary attainments were the exclusive prop- 
erty of a few professional men, and when, to be master of any 
thing like a liberal course, required the labor of nearly a life time. 
It is not so now. While the objects of study have been greatly 
multiplied — ten fold more than they were in the days of our grand- 
fathers — the facilities by which they may be studied, and under- 
stood, and applied to practical purposes, have been equally multi- 
plied. The elements — the great and the leading facts of the most 
abstruse, as well as the most practical sciences, are now within the 
reach of nearly all. Man and woman — the young as well as the 
old — are now to be found in all the departments of life, who are 
familiar with the researches and discoveries of some of the most 
learned and the most eminent men of other days. Literature and 
science are now, in fact, to a great extent, incorporated with the life 
and the daily employments of almost every man. Hence, what- 
ever may be the particular sphere which a man may expect to 
occupy, he must now, in early life, some how or other, acquire, 
what, not fifty years ago, would have been called a liberal educa- 
tion, or be utterly unfit to move any where, but as a mere drudge 
— a mere beast of burden. 

The chartered literary institutions in this and the adjoining 



36 DR. bishop's addresses. 

States are not, as yet, too numerous. The location of the most of 
them is also happy. They have all gone into operation, or been 
reorganized in the course of the last five years. They are all 
rising, and command, in a moderate degree, the public confidence. 
And the great and leading principle has been settled with us, and 
by a pretty expensive experiment to some of the people of the 
West, (at an expense of, at least, one hundred thousand dollars) 
that the religion and the practical piety of the Bible must pervade 
the whole of a literary institution, or it will go to destruction. 

It is, perhaps, a considerable mistake to make the large estab- 
lishments of Europe a model for our Western colleges. Exten- 
sive and liberal endowments of professorships, and fellowships, 
and scholarships, have, as yet, been the nurseries of indolence, 
and extravagance, and vice of every kind, rather than of the oppo^ 
site virtues. Where we have had one Sir Isaac Newton, or one 
Milner, we have had one hundred who were only natifruges con- 
sumere. A moderate endowment, just sufficient to put the institu- 
tion fully and fairly into operation, and to meet the necessary 
expenses of tear and wear — that which will make the officers of 
the institution comfortable, but not raise them above their daily 
labor, or put them beyond the reach of public opinion — an institu- 
tion, in fine, which will accommodate, and do justice to, from 100 
to 150 young men: such an endowment or arrangement is the 
kind of institution which, in my opinion at least, is the most likely 
to be a permanent blessing to the community. 

The means by which schools and colleges of every kind may be 
supported and managed in the great valley of the Mississippi, are 
ample. A large portion of the inhabitants know, from experience, 
and from the present state of the world, the value of literature in 
all its departments. The population, in many extensive districts, 
will soon be dense. Industry and an abundance of the good things 
of this life pervade the whole. All the arrangements and opera- 
tions of missionary, and Bible, and tract societies, and of Sabbath 
school associations, harmonize in giving an impulse in favor of 
literature, and of literature of the purest and most solid kind. — 
And the increasing thousands of the youth of both sexes must be 
educated, in some degree, corresponding with the extending course 
of education, or all our national and civil advantages will be to the 
next generation of very little avail. For it must not be concealed 



DR. bishop's addresses. 37 

that we have within our bosom a mass of ignorance and corrup- 
tion — and an increasing mass of this kind, in morals, and poUtics, 
and religion — that must not only be stemmed, but must be dried 
up from its very sources: or, like our own majestic father of wa- 
ters, it will swell and swell, and overflow and overflow, till it shall 
sweep all before it, leaving nothing behind but desolation. In this 
conflict there can be no neutral ground. With each party it is a 
war of extermination ; but of the issue there can be no doubt. 

We have, my friends, in the management of Miami University, a 
great and an important trust committed to us. The welfare of 
the thousands who are springing into life, and of the millions of 
the next generation, is at stake. We have our particular station 
allotted us J but, as the concerns of a single institution can never 
be detached from the general interest, we neither stand nor labor 
by ourselves. The enlightened, the wise, and the good, through 
the whole of the Western country — through the whole of the Uni- 
ted States — in every land — are our fellow laborers. Wherever 
the true nature of literature, and science, and religion, is understood, 
there we have an auxiliary. And there is an impulse now given 
to the human mind, which, under the direction of Him who "must 
reign till he shall have put all enemies under his feet," shall final- 
ly, and at no distant period, put the great body of the people of all 
lands in the full possession of all that is necessary to render them 
wise, and good, and happy. 



SEPTEMBER 30, 1830. 

My Young Friends, 

This day is, on many accounts, a day of deeper interest to 
you and to your friends, than the day of your birth was. On that 
day you were barely ushered into the world — unknown and help- 
less strangers. A son was indeed born, and he was the hope of 
his father and mother, and the subject of the congratulations of a 
few friends and neighbors; but that was all. There were no de- 
tails: there were none of the accumulated, and mixed, and extend- 
ed cares and anxieties, which your situation this day excites. 

You have, for these ten or fifteen years, been the object of the 
most sincere and ardent anxiety. Many plans and arrangements 
have already been made and executed, which had you and your 
situation this day for their particular and ultimate object. During 



38 DR. bishop's addresses. 

the whole of this period you have been ascending, step by stepy 
into public view. With every step your horizon has been extend- 
ing, and your friends have been multiplying, and have taken, year 
after year, a deeper and deeper interest in your welfare. And you 
have now arrived nearly at the point when each of you must decide 
for himself whether the high expectations which have been cher- 
ished concerning him are to be realized, or whether all the time, 
and labor, and expense, and care, which have been expended upon 
him, shall be lost, or, perhaps, worse than lost. 

In reviewing the past period, you will find many things on 
which you may dwell with delight. You are the sons of men and 
women of distinguished merit. You may disgrace your ancestry,, 
but your ancestry will never disgrace you. Unless you should be- 
come unworthy of your descent, you will never have any occasion 
to blush in pronouncing the names of your fathers and mothers, 
or of your grandfathers and grandmothers. You have had your 
characters and habits, thus far, formed under the influence of chris- 
tian instruction and christian example. You have, ever since you 
have been able to attend to any thing, been under the nurture and 
admonition of the Lord. And you, as yet, know the vices and 
follies of the world only through books. And may the Father of 
Mercies forbid that you should ever know any of them through 
any other channel. 

Some six or seven years ago, you did, of your own accord, com- 
mence the course of studies which you this day finish. It was, 
from the beginning, and it ever has been, your own free choice 
to be students and scholars. No friend or teacher has ever been 
under any necessity to urge you or drag you on any other way 
than by presenting before you the proper objects of pursuit. You 
have had, in pursuing the course presented, your difficulties, and 
your cares, and anxieties; but you have also had your pleasures. 
And we return you this day to the bosom of your respective fami- 
lies, in good health — with constitutions unimpaired — with a con- 
siderable stock of important knowledge in the different depart- 
ments of human investigation — and with habits and principles of 
action, which, under the blessing and protection of heaven, will, 
we trust, make you honorable and useful members of society, in 
whatever department of life your future lots may be cast. 

In looking forward to what may be your future situations and 



DR. bishop's addresses. 39 

characters, you have many brilliant objects of hope, and much, 
also, to fear. You are by birth the citizens of a great and grow- 
ing empire. The United States of North America is your birth 
place; but the country occupied by these States — extensive, and 
fertile, and abounding with every natural advantage, as it is — is 
only the seat of the empire — not the empire itself. You are the 
legal heirs of that rich inheritance, for which Washington and 
the patriots of the Revolution on this side the Atlantic, and for 
which Hampden and Russel, and the body of the Puritans on the 
other side of the Atlantic, staked their all. Nay, further, you 
may trace your inheritance back through a long line of patriots, 
and statesmen, and scholars, and apostles, and martyrs, of every 
age and almost of every country under heaven, to the commence- 
ment of history. And you have come into existence, and, should 
you live, you will be called upon to act in an age peculiarly inter- 
esting. 

Ever since human nature was corrupted, and man became a rebel 
against the authority of his Maker, there has been an unceasing 
warfare between knowledge and ignorance, truth and error, virtue 
and vice. Hence, this world, with all its beauty, and all its capa- 
city to render its inhabitants happy, has been, and still is, to a 
great extent, the abode of disorder, and degradation, and misery, 
of every kind. A large portion of our fellow men have, in every 
age, and in every country, and under every form of government, 
been the subjects of the most degrading vices, and the objects of the 
most unjust and cruel oppression. But this state of affairs is not 
to last forever. Truth will ultimately prevail over error; knowl- 
edge will ultimately dispel and annihilate ignorance; and virtue 
will extirpate vice. We are encouraged, by the very best author- 
ity, to look forward to a period when the love of God ajid the love 
of man, and righteousness and peace will be universal — when men 
.of every country, and of every nation, and of every class, will be 
generally happy, because they will be generally virtuous and gen- 
erally restored to the favor and image of their Maker. And we 
have reason to believe that that happy period is at no great dis- 
tance — that the men are already born who shall be the honored 
instruments of at least carrying through a vast number of the pre- 
paratory arrangements. 

There can be no doubt with any reflecting mind as to the means 



40 DR. bishop's addresses. 

which must be used to produce this great and important change in 
the state and character of man. Ignorance, error, and vice, are 
acknowledged, on all hands, to be the sources of all human misery. 
Let the mind, then, of the great mass of the community be enlight- 
ened, and regulated by correct, religious, and moral principles, 
and the great work is achieved. And among the means by which 
the mind may be enlightened and brought under proper discipline, 
the Bible — the word of God — must always, with every sober, well 
informed man, hold the chief place. Here, and here only, we have 
correct and full information concerning the nature of man, and 
concerning his future destiny, and concerning the relation that 
he sustains to his fellow men, and to his Creator, Preserver, and 
Judge. It is the Bible also only, which has announced that 
the period shall arrive when truth, and peace, and righteous- 
ness, shall cover the whole earth; and, while it has announ- 
ced the fact, in clear and express terms, and with a certainty 
which cannot be doubted, it also tells us that it is only under the 
influence of its doctrines, and promises, and institutions, that we 
have any ground to hope that such a state of things will ever be 
realized. Let the Bible, then, my young friends, be, as it has 
been, your text-book, your book of daily reference, and the stand- 
ard by which you shall try every principle of morality and reli- 
gion. You may, perhaps, after this day, lay aside, with perfect 
safety, the daily use of all your other text-books; this book you 
cannot lay aside with safety, either to yourselves or to others, 
while you are immortal, and frail, and sinful beings, sojourning in 
a world of ignorance, error and vice. 

As the moral disorder has not only infected all lands, but also 
every department of social life, the remedy must be carried into 
every depa-rtment. It has been a great mistake of some, otherwise 
wise and good men, to suppose that the Bible — the ultimate and 
the only infallible standard of religion and morals — ought to be 
studied regularly and systematically, only by the public teachers 
of religion. This, though not intended so, is as much as to say, 
that piety and religion, the love of God and the love of man, and 
daily intercourse with the God who made us, ought to give a prom- 
inent character only to those whose particular duty it is to teach 
religion. Society needs pious physicians, and pious lawyers, and 
pious legislators, and pious judges, and pious magistrates, and pious 



DR. bishop's addresses. 41 

merchants, and pious manufacturers, as much as it needs pious 
preachers of the gospel. And when "Holiness to the Lord" will 
be written upon the bells of the horses, and when "all the vessels 
used for the ordinary purpose's of life will be as the vessels before 
the altar," the world will have that kind of physicians, and law- 
yers, and legislators, and judges, and magistrates, and merchants, 
and manufacturers. And, under the influence of such men, the 
whole surface of the earth, for the long period of one thousand 
years, shall be stocked with inhabitants, and every man in every 
land, and in every situation, shall be sitting under his own vine 
and under his own fig tree, and none to make him afraid. And 
the earth shall, year after year, and month after month, be yield- 
ing her increase, and God, even our own God, shall bless us. 

These, gentlemen, are the prospects which are set before you. 
They comprehend the renovation of human nature, and the resto- 
ration of our world to the bloom and to the bliss of Paradise. Nor 
need you indulge any fear that such a change will not be realized. 
Unsullied faithfulness has announced it, and the zeal of the Lord of 
hosts will perform it. Hence you need not fear any opposition 
which has existed, or which may exist. Nor need you fear to be 
left alone in a course of this kind. He who governs the universe 
will never be at a loss for means and instruments to fulfil his gra- 
cious designs; and though he needs not any of our feeble services, 
he will be in no man's debt. 

A great number of facts might be stated which would go to show 
that the time when this great change shall take place can be at no 
great distance — not greater than that of two or three generations. 
The history of the discovery of America, and of the settlement 
and independence of these United States, when viewed in connec- 
tion with the history of the old world, furnishes a body of such 
facts. The human mind, and the state of society, and the knowl- 
edge and the practical application of the principles of civil govern- 
ment and religion, have, by a vast train of otherwise independent 
events, assumed, in these United States, a quite different character 
from what they could have assumed in the old world. And, if we 
believe in a particular overruling providence, and admit the divine 
authority of the declarations of the Bible respecting the glory of 
the latter days, we cannot doubt that all these new associations, 
and all these new developments of the human mind, are some of 

6 



42 DR. bishop's addresses. 

the most important preparatory movements for the rentjvation of 
the world. Hence we have ventured to say, "that the country now 
occupied by these United States is not the empire itself, but the 
seat of that growing empire, whose sons and citizens you are." — 
Whoever else may be employed by the Almighty and the gracious 
Sovereign of the universe in giving to man and to all human insti- 
tutions a new character, the sons of these new born States will be 
called upon to act a most distinguished part. 

And yet, while these are the brilliant objects of your hope, you 
have much to fear. You need indulge no apprehensions as to the 
issue, nor as to the personal safety and triumph of all who shall be 
on the side of knowledge, truth, and virtue. But the conflict will 
be severe, and many will fall in the conflict never more to rise. 

You have much to fear respecting yourselves; and blessed, saith 
the spirit of inspiration, is the man who feareth always. 

It may be that you will not take your stand on the right side; 
and then, if you persevere, sooner or later, you must fall; and it 
may be that a large portion, and the best portion, of your life shall 
be spent before you take your place, either directly or indirectly, 
on either side. And, when you shall have taken your proper 
stand, you may mistake as to the means, or may not exert your- 
self with any thing like the vigor or interest which the importance 
of the subject demands. And, in any one of these cases, there will 
be a great loss. While you are to be above all local prejudice, 
your friends and the community have a right to expect that, in 
every thing which shall have a bearing upon the improvement of 
the state of society, any way within the sphere of your operation, 
you shall take a deep, and an active, and an increasing interest. 

Beware, however, of too much confidence' in your own talents 
or acquirements, or in the peculiar fitness of the particular meas- 
ures which you may recommend and urge. With all the talents 
which you possess, and all the knowledge which you have acquired, 
you are yet only in your infancy; and, though you should live and 
go on to improve till you shall have filled up your three score 
years and ten, you will find that you shall have many things to 
learn, and, from the day that you shall enter upon public life till 
the day you shall become superannuated, you will find many con- 
nected with you in doing the business of life, who have not enjoyed 
half the opportunities of improvement which you have enjoyed. 



DR. bishop's addresses. 43 

And who yet will be very far your superiors in the particular 
business in which you and they will be engaged. Happy is the 
manwho has a just estimate of his own powers, united with a just 
estimate of the peculiar powers of those with whom he is associa- 
ted. The race is not always to the swift, nor' the battle to the 
strong. There is such a thing as ''the lame taking the prey." — 
Imprudence has destroyed the usefulness and the happiness of a 
far greater number of young men entering upon life than ever the 
want of talents did. 

But, my dear friends, above all things, beware of supposing that 
any talents, or any acquirements, or any advantages, which you 
may possess, or any employment to which you may devote your 
lives, will supersede the necessity of personal religion — supersede 
the necessity of daily and hourly throwing yourselves upon the 
mercy of God, through our Lord Jesus Christ. You are, and must 
be, in every situation, dependent creatures. You are sinners, and 
are and will be exposed to innumerable temptations. You are 
mortal, and must soon be done with all that belongs to the present 
state of things. Eight, or ten, or fifteen, or twenty, or even sixty 
years, soon pass away. You are immortal, and will soon be in 
eternity; and all that we now enjoy, and all that we now perform, 
are valuable only so as they may prepare us and others for this 
last and unchangeable state. 

To live habitually in the fear of God, and maintain daily inter- 
course with him, as our father and friend, is the most general and 
the most important of all general rules. Carry this principle with 
you into all the departments of life, and, whatever may be the 
dangers and difficulties in your lot while sojourning here below, 
all will be, at all times and in all situations, well. 

Respected Audience, 

Your attendance on this day, and on former occasions, is mat- 
ter of heart-felt gratitude. Public institutions cannot be public 
blessings, unless the community at large feel an interest in their 
prosperity. 

The importance of education is readily acknowledged by every 
reflecting mind. A man, to be useful and comfortable in the pres- 
ent state of society, must be able to read and write, and cast up 
accounts. He must also have the means and the power of corre-^ 



44 DR. bishop's addresses. 

spending with his friends at a distance. Let his situation in life be 
ever so humble, he has to give and receive information on a great 
variety of subjects. And the most ignorant and illiterate has a 
distinct conception of the influence which one man has upon an- 
other, and of the importance of moral discipline and self-govern- 
ment. All these objects are embraced in the arrangements of the 
most imperfect of our common schools, and in our higher schools. 
In colleges and universities there are not many other distinct ar- 
ticles. He who fells and hews the timber in the forest, and he who, 
in the distant city, gives it its last polish, are laboring in the same 
employment, and are mutually dependeni upon each other. 

Under every form of government there must be, from the very 
nature of man, and the nature of society, different departments, 
and an infinite variety of ways, in which mutual improvement may 
be promoted. It is indeed true, that, in an extremely rude state 
of society, almost every man performs with his own hands, all the 
labor which is necessary either for himself or his family: but it is 
equally true, that, in such a state of society, a bare animal subsis- 
tence is nearly all that is enjoyed, and that, as the comforts and 
conveniences of life are multiplied, men become more and more 
dependent upon one another; and in no one case is this mutual 
dependence more evident than in the case of education. 

Gradual and, as to what we yet know, endless development is 
one of the great distinguishing characteristics of all God's works, 
and is most legibly enstamped upon the human mind, and upon 
society. There was a time when Demosthenes, and Cicero, and 
Bacon, and Locke, and Newton, knew not the letters of the Alpha- 
bet, and had not a name to express the milk by which they were 
nourished. There was a time when the inhabitants of Great 
Britain and France lived in caves and hollow trees, as the ances- 
tors of the polished Greeks had done centuries before. The sun 
shone, and the rains and the dew fell, and the rivers flowed in the 
great valley of the Mississippi, one hundred years ago, pretty 
much as they do at this day. And there were men, and men too 
of noble minds, who traversed at that time these extensive regions; 
but letters and the arts of reading and writing, and of collecting 
and transmitting information, were unknown. And hence the soil 
remained uncultivated; the metals and ores in the bosom, and 
even upon the surface, of the earth lay undisturbed and useless; — 



DR. bishop's addresses. 45 

and where millions of human beings, and millions of domestic an- 
imals, now live in plenty, and could furnish food enough to half 
the world, a few hundred of naked savages strolled from hill to 
hill, and from river to river, in search of a scanty and precarious 
subsistence. And yet the resources of this extensive country are 
only beginning to be opened. 

Every man who has a family, is convinced of the importance 
of having a good common school in his immediate neighborhood. — 
He knows also, that he who is to teach must himself first be taught, 
and, that the teacher must always be in advance of those who are 
learning. He farther knows, that among those who are engaged 
in teaching, there are great varieties : that some are far better 
qualified for their profession than others. Hence it follows from 
the very nature of things, that there must be in every country 
where there is any improvement, some course of education, some 
means of obtaining information of a higher order than what is re- 
quired in the primary schools. Besides, the question must pre- 
sent itself to every reflecting mind : How are books to be furnish- 
ed for these primary schools? How are systems of grammar, 
and of geography, and of Arithmetic, to be compiled, and adapted 
to the capacity of the young, and the ever varying state of socie- 
ty? They can be furnished only by men of science and of gene- 
ral information ; and these men must have their minds formed in 
schoolsof a higher order. 

No man who is the least acquainted with the state of the world, 
need be told, that the present age is an age of general improve- 
ment. Every mechanical art, and all the modes of doing business 
in all the departments of life, are very different this day from 
what they were in the days of our grandfathers. All these im- 
provements may be traced to the state of literature. The source 
of all improvements, in all the arts, and in all the different modes 
of doing business in the world, is to be found in the improvement 
of the human mind. There are books now prepared and in com- 
mon use, in our primary schools, which put the boy, or girl of six 
or eight years of age, in possession of more important informa- 
tion, than many of our fathers, who were men of information in 
their day, had at the age of 40. And there are schools in many 
parts of our land, in successful operation, which claim only the 
rank of primary schools, and which, notwithstanding, have a more 



46 DR. bishop's addkesses. 

extensive and a more efficient course of education than was knowrt 
in the most of the colleges of the United States, not thirty years 
ago. 

It is a great mistake to suppose that the higher schools are on- 
ly for the benefit of the wealthy, and those of high standing in 
society. Are the common schools, in which provision is made for 
the instruction of all the children in the neighborhood,for the ben- 
fit of the wealthy and the well informed, and those of high stand- 
ing only? Are the various voluntary associations, in our own 
country, generally called Benevolent Institutions, whose particu- 
lar object is to seek out the youth of every description, and put 
them under a course of efficient intellectual improvement — are 
these for the benefit of the wealthy only? And where and how 
were the men formed, who have been and still are the most active 
and the most efficient in establishing common schocls, and introdu- 
cing into them, and into every cottage in the land, improved books, 
and improved modes of instruction ? These men are generally the 
sons of Colleges and Universities ; and the books and improved 
modes of instruction are the productions of men, who spent their 
best days, and nights, and years within the walls of some college- 

But farther: go into any college in the United States, and make 
inquiry as to the young men, who are there, or who have been 
there, and you will find, that an overwhelming majority have been 
and still are the sons of fathers and mothers in moderate circum- 
stances; and that a large number have been literally of the poor 
of the land. Nay, throughout the world, in every generation, and 
in every land, you will find, that the great body of men of learn- 
ing and science, have been from the lower and middle classes of 
society, and,that having spent their lives in promoting the improve- 
ment of their fellow men, and having never aimed at acquiring 
any thing more than a bare competency, they have left their fam- 
ilies, each member to shift for himself, and to begin the world anew 
as his father had done. Amassing individual wealth, has never been 
the object of the body of learned men; their object has generally 
been to diffuse wealth and prosperity through the community, and 
to cherish in the breast of the meanest human being, a spirit of in- 
dustry, and vigor, and independence. Hence, it is a remarkable 
fact in the history of man, that wherever schools of the higher and 
the lower order have a general influence, poverty and dependence 



DE. bishop's addresses. 47 

either do not exist, or if they are known, they do not appear in 
that degree, and in the distressing forms, in which they do exist 
where general education is neglected. It is chiefly by the united 
influence of common schools and colleges, that the poor of all 
lands are raised from the dunghill and set among princes. 

But call if you please, associations of learned men. Aristocra- 
cies, and consider and examine them as Aristocracies, and you will 
find that they are Aristocracies of a peculiar kind; altogether of a 
levelling na.tUTe. There is no royal road to Mathematics; no hered- 
itary inheritance of much value here. Learning and science form 
:a something, which cannot be conveyed from father to son, as a 
landed estate, or as a bank stock is conveyed, and as places of pow- 
er and trust are conveyed in some countries. A man to be a member 
of a learned body, must by his own personal exertions, acquire 
and retain, and increase the necessary qualifications. There is no 
entering or rising here, by birthright, or by proxy. 

But farther. What was it — and what is it, which has destroyed 
or weakened or modified the Aristocracies of Europe? And what 
•was it, which prevented the establishment of Aristocracies in these 
United States? It has been, and is, the influence of schools and 
colleges, and the general diflusion of knowledge. When the pea- 
sant and the laboring classes of any community, are men of read- 
ing and thinking, and when hundreds of the sons of the poorest in 
the land, are every year rising to eminence, as men of research, 
and of general information, the eminence which depends altogeth- 
er upon Lordships and Dukedoms, or upon having been the sons of 
a distinguished man, will be held of very little account. An igno- 
rant and vicious son of a duke or lord, or of a colonel or general, 
or even of a President of the United States, will be only so much 
the more an object of pity or contempt. 

The sum of what has been suggested is, that every individual 
in the community has a deep interest in its literature, and that if 
there is any difference, the poorest man has the deepest interest. 
That literature of various kinds, is actually needed — as much as 
food, and clothing are needed, by every individual in every depart- 
ment of life. That there can be no such thing as an opposition of 
interests, betwixt the pursuits of literature and any of the other 
lawful employments, in which men are engaged. That on the 
contrary a good efficient system of education, can have nothing but 



DR. BISHOP'S ADDRESSES. 



48 

, , , , . igorating influence upon all that belongs to soci- 

Th t h ^^^^ ^^^ there be any opposition of interests be- 

^ .' ^, T^r. at schools which may exist in any community, 
twixt the difFere] ^ ^ ^^ 

. , , ,, ichools are so organized and so conducted as to 

provided these s ^ , , >. , i 

, .11 lopiiient and the moral government of the humaa 
produce the deve ^ , , . , • 

, , A 1 /> ilv, that, as the human mind is susceptible, so lar 
mind. And, final-' '. „ , , , 

. , ^ endless improvement, and as all that belongs 

as is known, oi ^ ... 

. ^ . 3quently, also susceptible of indefinite improve- 

to society is, cons* ^ •'' ^ - ^ . 

, ., lower and higher schools in every community 
ment, and, as the , , . -, 

r. ^1 . very nature and design, act and react upon one 
must, from their -^ , , , ^ -, . 

^, . . c vast importance that the system of education 
another; it is of . ^ •' . . . ^ 

J , , , T , ), m every part of it, efficient; that it is, m fact, 

p . ' 1 . ^ nee to give to the infant mind a good beginning, 

of as vitalimporta ^ ^ & &» 

. , , posed to be of importance to give to the gradu- 

as it has been sup*^ r & & 

r, . ^ ,wenty-one, a good finish, 

ate of sixteen or t -^ ' ° 



SEPTEMBER 28, 1831. 
J 



My Young Friend' 

. , . 1 ience brought you together, in this place, from 

J .^ . r» -1 • /I'om different States, and from different religious 
different families, 1 ' ° 

■, . T flfe rent times. Some of vou have been associa- 

societies, and at dii 

-. ,, r- , wardsof six years; and others of you have had 

, , . tercourse. 

only one yearns mi 

A kind Drovidei^'^^ ^^^ ^^^^ watched over you while you have 
been together, Yc*"'^^^® enjoyed good health; you have lived 
together as brothe^^' Y^^^' ^^'^^ ^"^ ^^^^^^ ^^"^^ ^^^^ ^^^^ 
regularly supplied ^^ ^^^^^ ^^ P^^'^"^" ^^^ ^^^^^ f^^^^^^' ^ou 
have been agreea^^^ ^"^' we trust, profitably employed; and, 
though at a distanc^ ^^^^ ^^^^^ ^^""'^^ ^'^^^^" ^^^ acquaintances, 
and only here as .sojourners, yet you have, all the while of your 

. . 1 inection with one another, been at home, 

intercourse and cor ' 

And the same kir^ providence, which brought you together and 
which has kept you together till this hour, now calls you to sepa- 

te You stand no^ together for the last time on earth : you will 
niver again all me^* ^" ^"^ °"^ ^P^^' ^'^^ ^^^ ^^^ I' ^^^ ^^^ the 
human family, shall ^^^"^ ^^^^^® ^^^ ^^^^""^^ ^^^^^^ ^"^g^ ^^ ^" 
the earth. 

One generation gP®^^ ^^^^^ ^^^ another cometh. There was a 
time when your gra^^^^^hers and great-grandfathers were only 




DR. bishop's addresses. 49 

school boys; and then they grew up to manhood; and, having serv- 
ed their day and generation, they disappeared. "Your fathers, 
where are they? and the prophets, do they live forever?" And 
when you shall return to the neighborhoods of your respective 
fathers and mothers, and shall have visited the scenes of your 
earlier days, you will likely be astonished at the changes which 
only two, or three, or five years have produced. Human society 
is every where, like the atmosphere, or the surface of the mighty 
deep, continually changing, and presenting, almost every hour, a 
new appearance. Even while we speak, thousands are just enter- 
ing upon life; and thousands are pushing and jostling upon one 
another in the active scene of life; and other thousands are, under 
an infinite variety of circumstances, closing their eyes upon all 
below the sun, and entering upon a new and untried state of being. 

You expect, my friends, after another short term of study, to en- 
ter upon public life, in some of the great departments of society. 
The men who, thirty years ago, directed the councils of the nation 
— or who framed or new-modelled her laws — or who opened up to 
her new sources of enterprise and wealth — or who defended indi- 
vidual and private rights — or who attended to a faithful and speedy 
administration of justice — or who labored to advance the various 
and important interests of literature and education — or who, by 
night and by day, were at the call of every family and of every 
individual who was afflicted with sickness or disease — or who 
watched and labored with equal intensity over the moral, and 
religious, and eternal interests of the old and the young, and of the 
poor and the rich — those men who, thirty years ago, occupied all 
these and similar important situations in society, have either dis- 
appeared, or are just sinking below the horizon; and those of a 
later day, who are still in the vigor and prime of life, are soon 
also to go the way of all the earth; and you and 5^our fellows of 
the same age and standing, are to take their places. 

We cannot, at this late hour, suggest to you any thing which 
has not already, in a great variety of forms, been presented to you 
in the course of your education. But, as a small memorial of our 
best wishes for your future welfare, you will be pleased to take 
along with you, the following hints. And, 

1. If you are to fulfil the just expectations of your friends, in 
any of the important stations in society, you must continue to be 

7 



so DR. 

close students," and you must, for years yet to come, enlarge, and 
enlarge, your stock of knowledge, and bring into exercise still far- 
ther and farther, your intellectual and moral powers. 

With all your acquirements, you are, as yet, acquainted only 
with a few elementary facts and principles. The facts and prin- 
ciples which are still unknown to you, even in those subjects 
which you have studied most thoroughly, are numerous; and the 
various applications of the facts and principles with which you are 
familiar, are literally infinite. Instead, then, of supposing that 
you have this day finished your studies, if. you are to be of any 
use in society, you are to consider yourselves as having only ac- 
quired the knowledge of the alphabet and grammar of an education. 

Whatever may be your acquirements, and whatever evidence 
you may have given of possessing talents of the first order, you 
know not, as yet, any thing of your full strength. Indeed, a more 
decisive evidence of want of talent cannot be given, than for a 
young man to suppose that, when he has obtained his degree of 
A. B., or even of A. M., he has arrived at his full growth. 

Besides: The period in which Providence has cast your lot de- 
mands of every man, who would rank as a scholar, or as a man of 
business, in any department of society, yearly and daily enlarge- 
ment of his stock of knowledge, and, yearly and daily, some new 
development of his powers. Improvements of every kind, in all 
the departments of life, have, in the present generation, far out- 
stript the ordinary march of history; and the youth just entering 
upon action, who will be satisfied with the acquirements which he 
may have already made, will, in the course of a few years, find 
himself an age behind his former fellows. 

2. If you would be useful in your day and generation, you must 
cherish liberal and extended views of men and things. The man 
who has never been out of his native valley may be allowed to 
believe that there is nothing valuable or desirable beyond the hills 
which bound his vision; and the man who has associated only 
with those of a particular religious or political sect, or who has 
studied only one set of books on any subject which he has studied, 
may be excused in supposing, that every thing which does not, at 
the first glance, exactly accord with his notions and acquirements, 
must be erroneous and dangerous: but other things are to be ex- 
pected of those who have travelled, and read, and examined, and 
laid up knowledge for themselves. 



DR. BISHOV's ADDRESSES. 51 

We are, without doubt, on the eve of a great and important 
change in the political, and moral, and religious state of society. — 
All belonging to the condition and character of man, all over the 
globe, is evidently in a state of revolution. It will be found utterly 
impossible to stop or to turn the natural course of things. Men 
every where, both in politics and religion, must come back again 
to a few first principles; and, by these few first pringiples, all old 
established systems any way connected with man, as a social be- 
ing, must be re-examined and annihilated, or re-modified. And 
the generation is likely born who are to do this great work — who 
are to be the instruments of this new creation. "x\nd now he hath 
promised, saying, yet once more will I shake not the earth only, 
but also heaven, and this word once more, signifieth the removing 
of those things which are shaken, as of things that are made, that 
those things which cannot be shaken may remain." 

As native citizens of the United States, you have had your lot 
cast under the most favorable circumstances. It is here, and here 
only, that the important experiment has been made, that the great 
mass of the community are capable of governing themselves, and 
that due subordination can be maintained in all the departments of 
civil life, without a military force, or an hereditary nobility, or a 
religion established by law ; and that the strength and the safety of 
the community does not consist in restraining, but in encouraging 
freedom of inquiry, and freedom of discussion. The whole of the 
government of these States, in all its departments, extending over 
twenty-four independent and sovereign, and 3^et confederated and 
united, republics, rests upon public opinion, and upon public opin-^ 
ion only; and this public opinion is to be created, or changed, or 
modified, by free, and full, and general, and universal discussion. 

Great diversity of opinion must, of course, exist in all the depart- 
ments of such a society. But this diversity can only be about the 
local and the temporary application of general principles. The 
man of enlarged mind, and the true friend of his country, will, in 
the hottest political discussion, remember that he is a citizen of the 
United States, and that his personal and family welfare is identi- 
fied with the prosperity of these States. He will farther remem- 
ber that his antagonist also is a citizen of these States, and has his 
personal and family interests equally identified with the continu- 
ance of equal rights and equal privileges. And, finally, he will 



62 DR. bishop's addresses, 

remember that there have been good men, and honest men, and 
genuine patriots, and men of talent, and wisdom, and experience, 
connected with all the political parties which ever yet have been, 
and that, in the changing and shifting state of society, the m.an 
who has his supposed personal interest connected with the South 
or the North, or the East or the West, this year, may, next year, 
or during the next presidential term, have his personal and family 
interest connected with the opposite point. 

It must not, hov/ever, be concealed that the community may often, 
from conflicting opinions — sometimes on great and important mat- 
ters, but more frequently on, comparatively speaking, very little 
matters — be in great and imminent danger. Men of very narrow 
views, and of very limited capacities, though sincere and honest, 
may be very far mistaken; and they may be very noisy, and they 
may, for a time, have considerable influence over an honest and oth- 
erwise well-informed majority of their fellow citizens. Real and 
great difficulties will also every year exist in applying acknowledged 
general principles to the almost infinite variety of subjects connect- 
ed with the external and the internal policy of these United States. 
And, on all such occasions, the man who has the most enlarged 
views of men and things, and who has the m.ost complete command 
ofhis own temper and disposition, will, all other things being equal, 
be the best patriot, and the best statesman, and the best citizen, 
and will, ultimately, bear away, through life and through succeed- 
ing generations, the largest share of a nation's glory. 

As to the great and important concerns of religion, so far as 
these are connected with social intercourse and personal useful- 
ness, the same general principles will apply. The Bible is the su- 
preme and infallible standard of the religion of our common coun- 
try; and it is ultimately to be the supreme and infallible standard 
of the religion of every country, and of every people. This book, 
among a number of other incontestible proofs, proclaims its divine 
authority, by containing a number of facts and general principles, 
simple and easy to be understood by themselves, and yet of the 
most extensive sweep : facts and principles in their nature as un- 
bending as the nature and purposes of Jehovah, and yet capable 
of being applied to all the ever-changing and infinitely diversified 
states and characters of man and society. 

To an inattentive observer, the christian world, particularly as 



DR. bishop's addresses. 63 

it is exhibited in the United States, appears to be divided, and 
greatly disturbed by an ahiiost endless variety of conflicting opin- 
ions; but not so, I presume, to the man of enlarged and liberal 
views. The plain and simple truths of the Bible, which fit men 
for heaven, and for the enjoyment of God, and for being useful 
members of society, are confessedly understood, and received, and 
practised upon, to a great extent, by thousands in nearly all the 
different religious communions. Why, then, should the peace of 
either civil or religious society, or the usefulness of a single in- 
dividual, be in the least, interrupted by differences of opinion 
about matters, which, though in many other respects of great im- 
portance, yet are not essentially connected with the fulfilment of 
the great object of Christianity, so far as the present state of men's 
exertions is concerned; viz: the fitting men for eternity, and for 
their being useful in their day and generation? 

From all these views of civil and religious society, and from an 
infinite number of particular facts and observations connected 
with these views, I give to you, as m}^ last parting advice, a gene- 
ral rule for your future conduct, in your intercourse with your fel- 
low men, your fellow citizens, and your fellow christians. It is, 

Above all things, be on your guard against the influence of per- 
sonal and local attachments, and personal and local antipathies; 
and whenever you can find a man, sincere, and honest, and well- 
informed and active and enterprising, in his own particular de- 
partment, cultivate an acquaintance with such a man; and let men 
of such a character, be your friends, and your associates, and your 
confidants, wherever you can find them, without any regard to 
country, or state, or districts, or religious or political connexions; 
and, in this way, persevere in serving your God, and your coun- 
try, and your fellow men, in discharging all the particular duties of 
social life. 

This general rule must not, however, in any case, be acted up- 
on so as to oppose any permanent regulation of any society, with 
which you may be connected. Every society, whether civil or 
religious, must have a code of laws, for its own internal govern- 
ment; and for each of these, there is generally some particular, 
appropriate reason. It may be, that on some occasions, as in 
cases of commercial restrictions, and of terms of communion 
among religious bodies, the policy of some of the regulations may 



64 DR. bishop's addresses. 

be questionable,' but it may also be, that on examination, they will 
be found to possess more of propriety and justice, and of a fitness 
to promote the general good, than those, who have but little prac- 
tical knowledge in these matters, at first \iew, apprehended. But 
let this be as it may; every regulation of every society, must 
be cheerfully submitted to, by all the members of the society till 
it is legally changed by a full, and free, and fair discussion. The 
opposite doctrine must make the opinion, or the disposition, or 
even the mere whim of every man, the supreme law. 

One word more : 

With all your attainments, and with all your extended plans 
and prospects, you are to remember, that you are soon to be in 
eternity. You have already had many warnings, on this great 
and important point. You are to form plans, and increase your 
stock of knowledge and form connexions, as if you were to live 
and be active members of society, for ten, or twenty, or thirty, 
or forty, or fifty years, from this date; but you are also to remem- 
ber, that you may not live a single year or month, or even a sin- 
gle day, after some of these most important arrangements have 
been made. And you individually know well, the practical im- 
provement, which ought to be made, of this fact, both with res- 
pect to this life and the next. 

May the God of your fathers be, from this day, 5-our God, and 
your portion: and may you, from this day, live in His fear, and 
be exclusively devoted to His service: and, then, whether you 
shall be called home next year, or fifty years hence, it will be 
with: "well done good and faithful servant, enter thou into the 
joy of thy Lord." 

Friends, and Fellow Citizens, 

As the organ of the Trustees and Faculty of Miami Univer- 
sity, it is again my agreeable duty, to express our gratitude to 
you, for your attendance at this time. We also express our sense 
of the deep obligation we are under to you, and to many other 
friends in Ohio, and Kentucky, and Indiana, and in nearly all the 
Southern and Western States, who have thus far, given to our 
exertions in the cause of literature and science, your cordial and 
continued support. Next to the smiles and the protection of the 
Lord God of heaven and earth, no other favor, from any other 
quarter, could have been of more value. 



DR. bishop's addresses. 55 

When these exertions commenced, seven years ago, though 
there was the form and the name of a college, yet it was not sup- 
posed that it could be in less than five or six years, any thing 
more than a good grammar school. But a kind providence having 
given us the support of a v/ell informed and liberal community, 
and having blest us particularly with the charge of a large num- 
ber ol remarkably promising young men, the Institution has ob- 
tained, we trust, a respectable standing among the higher schools 
of our beloved country, in a shorter period than was anticipated.- 
It is hoped, that all who are engaged in the management of the 
concern, will ever feel the strong obligation under which they are, 
never to act, in the least matter, unworthy of the high confidence 
which has been placed in them; and that their exertions instead of 
being diminished, will be increased ; and that their arrangements 
will be yearly extended, so that Miami University, during the pre- 
sent and the succeeding generations, may keep pace in her im- 
provement, with the yearly increased population, and the yearly 
increased improvements of these Western States. No man can at 
present form any adequate conception, of what will be the charac- 
ter and situation of. these States, only thirty years hence. Un- 
less some severe visitation of providence should occur, only one 
thing is certain. 0/i2riKrtZ, will be the watch word, and the indi- 
viduals or associations, who will in any degree relax their ener- 
gies, will soon be left far behind. 

The government of the institution has been and is conducted 
upon a new principle, for the government of Colleges. We have 
no code of bye-laws — nor any official visiting or locking up 
of rooms. We have a course of education, and a particular spe- 
cified object to be obtained ; and every instructor is left to take his 
own way, in discharging the duties of his department. Every 
young man is, also, put entirely upon his good behavior. If he is 
capable of being instructed, he knows what is right, and what is 
wrong; what is proper, and what is improper; what is worthy of 
his character and prospects, and what is not worthy : and if he is 
not, in a very few months capable of governing himself, and of 
respecting all the rights and privileges of his associates, he is dis- 
missed as hopeless. It is believed, that this is the only principle 
of government, which suits the sons of freemen, and which will 



56 mi. bishop's addresses. 

render the ycLUli of our land, capable of being useful members of 
our great, extended and extending Eepublic. The experiment 
has also succeeded far beyond expectation. We have dismiss- 
ed very few as hopeless. But of all the means to be used, for the 
government of youth, and for the forming of their characters and 
habits for future usefulness, there is nothing like the influence of 
Bible instruction, and regular and full Sabbath-day employment. 

It has also been a leading object, to give a full and thorough 
course of academic instruction; and to encourage no one to at- 
tempt to go through the course, who did not give considerable evi- 
dence, that he possessed the talents and the disposition, which, 
with ordinary exertion would make him, in due time, a respecta- 
ble scholar. Three things are supposed to be necessary, to make 
a body of respectable scholars : 

1. There must be a full and extended course of education, dis- 
tinctly set before the proposed scholar; and the arrangements 
connected with the course, must be such, that oral instruction, 
to almost any amount, shall be communicated during every step. 
A narrow and limited course of education is like putting an iron 
shoe on the foot of an infant. 

2. There must be in the school, a body of well disposed, and 
active, and enterprising young men. No teacher, whatever may 
be his talents or attainments, can create intellect, and very few 
teachers have even the power of rousing and bringing into action, 
confirmed indolence. Nor can there be a greater curse connected 
with any public or private institution, than one half dozen of indo- 
lent young men, particularly if they have their pockets full of 
money, and have high notions of their personal and family dig- 
nity. 

Upon this principle, a considerable number of boys and young 
men, from the grammar school, and from the lower class in col- 
lege, have, in the course of the last four years, been, at different 
times, sent home privately. It is considered as an act of great in- 
justice to parents and to the community, to allow any young man 
to continue to spend his time and his money, after there is little or 
no prospect of his fulfilling the just expectations of his friends. — 
Besides, there arc many young men, who are, on many accounts, 
not capable of becoming scholars, who might immediately be very 



DR. bishop's addresses. 57 

profitably employed in some other kind of pursuits : but allow them 
to linger about a college some two, or five, or six years, and you 
render them unfit for every thing that is good. And, 

3. To make any body of respectable scholars, there must be 
sufficient time allowed. The great object of all useful instruction 
is, to unfold the powers of the human mind. And you cannot 
force nature here. A young man, who is to be a scholar, must 
be allowed years for the gradual, orderly and full development 
of his powers. And, if he is to have the advantages of a college 
course, he must be well prepared before he enters college. It is 
something more than a mere deceit, it is a murdering of the pow- 
ers of the youthful mind, to admit a young man to sophomore or 
junior standing, when he ought to be attending to the studies of 
the grammar school. One year's study, in a lower class, or in a 
lower school, will enable a young man, of ordinary talents, to 
double his acquisitions, in a higher class or higher school, next 
year; but push him, without that preparation, into a higher place, 
and one of two things must be the result i either, the studies of 
the higher place, are not more than what the studies of the low- 
er place would have been; or, what is turned over and proposed 
to be studied, is not understood. And, in either case, you have 
something else than — a good scholar. 



september 26, 1832. 
My Young Friends, 

The greater part of you have already been five or six years 
from home, attending to classical and scientific studies; and you 
have three years more to spend in professional studies; and 
still farther on, there will be another period of some two or three 
years spent, before you shall be able to get fairly into business, 
and have any thing like a prospect of usefulness and independ- 
ence. Ten years, therefore, of the best part of your lives will 
be passed away, before you shall have obtained the great object 
of your pursuit. And upon a very moderate calculation, the bills 
paid all this time by your friends for boarding, and tuition, and 
clothing, and books, and travelling expenses, will not, with any 
of you be much under two thousand dollars, and with some of 
you, the amount will be nearer three thousand. 

According to the reasoning of many, the one half of this mo- 

8 



58 DR. bishop's addresses. 

ney vested in a farm, and the necessary stock, or in some mechan- 
ical, or mercantile concern, say only three years ago, would have 
by this time produced, or at the very farthesfwould in another pe- 
riod of two or three years produce to you, and to a rising family 
an abundance of all the necessaries and comforts of life. 

But the money, and the time spent in acquiring a liberal, and a 
professional education, form but a very small portion of the items 
of the account. Expectations and anxieties of many intimate 
friends are always in such cases numerous and high. A father 
and mother, and a brother, and a sister, have feelings with respect 
to a son or a brother who is engaged in such a pursuit which ad- 
mit of no calculation. And exertions and in many cases depriva- 
tions and sacrifices are made by those friends, in order to procure 
the means of support to the son, or brother which are never made 
under any other class of circumstances. Add to all — that with all 
the care and prudence; and attention which can be exercised; all 
those literary, and scientific and professional attainments are made 
at the risk of losing health and life; and the life, and continuance 
of all the earthly comfort of the parent, sometimes only one pa- 
rent, and that the mother depends upon the life, and the continued 
eomfort, and success of the son v/ho is far from home, and who 
is day after day, and night after night engaged in these arduous 
pursuits. 

Something truly valuable, then, certainly ought to be attained, 
when that something can only be attained at such an expense and 
risk. 

"With all the astonishing powers which distinguish the human 
mind, and v»^ith all the attainments which have been made in any 
age, or in any section of country, there is a strong iendency in 
human nature to degenerate; and the mass of the community 
even in the most enlightened, and civilized spots has been always 
a dead weight upon every kind of intellectual, and moral improve- 
ment. Hence, all profane history opens with views of man in a 
state of barbarity. Hence, the inhabitants of all the newly dis- 
covered countries, in modern as well in ancient times have been 
found to be savages. Hence, there is not a single instance known 
of any tribe or nation rising from the savage state without foreign 
aid. Hence in all large cities, and wherever there is a dense pop- 
ulation, whatever may be the religion, or the learning, or the 



DR. BISIIOI-'S ADDRESSES. 59 

form^ or the spirit of the government, there has been a constant 
accumulation of moral corruption, and human misery; and in eve- 
ry ago, and in every country it has only been by the continued, 
and vigorous exertions of a few, that this accumulation has not 
speedily overwhelmed and destroyed the whole. And hence eve- 
ry state, and kingdom, and nation, and every institution, civil and 
religious, that has as yet been known in the history of man, has 
sooner or later been overwhelmed by the growing corruption, and 
degeneracy of the mass of the people. The wisest and most up- 
right of patriots, and lawgivers, and moralists, have as yet been 
able to stem, or' keep within specified bounds, the torrent for a few 
generations only. The majority having always been as yet on 
the side of ignorance and vice, this majority has yet always final- 
ly prevailed. 

Nor need we go beyond the boundaries of our own happy coun- 
try for illustration, of the strong tendency which is in human na- 
ture to degenerate. No portion of tlie globe since our first father 
left the abodes of innocence, has been settled under more favora- 
ble circumstances, than these United States have been. The ori- 
gin of these States, is not to be sought for in a barbarous age. — 
There -is properly speaking no savage, or barbarous period, in the 
history of United America. We here find a people in the full pos- 
session of all the useful, and all the ornamental arts, taking pos- 
session of a continent, and springing up at once a mighty nation. 
But with all these peculiar advantages the tendency to degenerate 
is marked upon every spot of our soil, and upon every movement 
of our unexampled increasing population. It is notorious, that 
all the new settlements on each side of the mountains, on the north 
and on the south, in the east, and in the v/est, in the vallies, and 
on the rich alluvial soil, as v/ell, as on the barren, and broken up- 
lands, have been always for one generation at least, in a semi-sav- 
age state; and that in every settlement, it has been only by the 
great exertion, and in many cases by the great sacrifices of a few, 
that even common schools have been introduced and continued. — 
There is not perhaps a single county in any one of these States, 
and Territories, which does not owe nearly all its civilization, and 
improvement to the personal exertion of some five, or six of the 
first settlers. Had those few individuals at a particular period 
been removed, and no other such, immediately imported from the 



00 DE. bishop's addresses. 

old settlements, the second, or the third^ generation, would in the 
most of cases have been found more savage, and more barbarous 
than the Indians were, when they were first visited by the Euro- 
peans. 

By the exertions of Missionary, and Tract, and Education, and 
Bible, and Temperance Societies, the intellectual and moral wants 
of all these states, have, in the course of the last ten years, been 
systematically and pretty fully explored. The results have gene- 
rally been sufficiently alarming. These wants have, in almost 
every case, been found considerably exceeding previous apprehen- 
sions. It has been ascertained, that in the State of Kentucky, 
nearly the one half of the white population is growing up una- 
ble to write or read. Many of them have not the opportunity 
even of a common school education. Kentucky is the oldest, and has 
alwaysstoodhigh among the Western States. And though there 
have been little or no efficient legal enactments about common 
school education, in that state, she has always commanded as 
many active and intelligent individuals as any other state has 
done. The inference is pretty fair — that taking the whole of 
these Western States into the account, the one half of all the 
children of all the citizens, are growing up without the knowledge 
of letters. 

No intelligent man need be informed, that the state of common 
schools is always a pretty correct test of the information and 
morals of the people; and that the whole system of education is 
one ivhole. Common schooTs, and academies, and colleges, and 
professional attainments, and the intellectual and moral strength 
of the whole community must always rise and fall together. Nor 
is there any such a thing as the conflict betwixt ignorance and in- 
telligence, being stationary. The conflict is, in every case, a war 
of extermination, and a war without any cessation of hostilities. 
And, notwithstanding of all the increased and varied exertions of 
the last ten or twenty years, in behalf of the better interest, when 
the unexampled increase of our population is taken into the ac- 
count, it is very problematical, which side has made the most 
progress, and which side has the ascendency with respect to num- 
bers. 

AVe wish now to apply these and similar facts, with which you 
are familiar, to the case in hand. You have, my young friends, 



DR. BISHOP^S ADDRESSES. 61 

devoted your lives to the cause of literature, and science, and gen- 
eral information; and you expect to be public men in some of the 
great departments of life. And you have already sunk a large 
portion of your patrimony, in this concern. You have a deep in- 
dividual, as well as a deep public, interest in the matter. Your 
country needs all your labors, and all your attainments. Your 
country knows she needs your services. The call from every 
quarter for literary and scientific men, is urgent; and you have 
vested your patrimony in what will, with the ordinary blessing of 
heaven, be ultimately most profitable stock. 

We have therefore only to say to you, go forward with a steady 
firm step. Follow in the tract of your Fathers, who were the 
pioneers of these rich States. Join hand and hand with your se- 
niors, who have gone before you, during the last ten or fifteen 
years from the various schools, and academies, and colleges, of 
our common country. Acknowledge a kindred soul in every man, 
old or young, who has a taste for general information, from what- 
ever country, or from whatever school he has his origin. Remem- 
ber that the most ignorant, and hopeless of your countrymen, 
have children, who will soon be men, and whose minds are capa- 
ble of perhaps higher attainments, than any which you yet pos- 
sess; and that the parents themselves are by no means insensible 
of the disadvantages, under which they have struggled. Call to 
mind that, though we call the work to which you are devoted 
a warfare, it is a generous warfare. It is not on your part a war 
of death and destruction, you are in every case to be the messen- 
gers of life and health, and individual, and national prosperity, 
and every individual, into whom you shall infuse the proper spirit? 
will possess, and will exert from that hour, to the hour of his dis- 
solution, a creative power which shall extend in all directions, into 
all classes of society, and which shall be felt, and enjoyed among 
the children of unborn generations. 

Only one subject more, but it is the most important of all. I ad- 
dress you, likely for the last time. I will never after this day, 
see you all together again on earth. And I wish, and all your 
friends here, and elsewhere wish you, not only to be happy and 
useful in time but through eternity. And you know as well 
as any of your friends know, that you cannot be happy in the 
prospect of eternity, till you are reconciled to the God who made 



62 DR. bishop's addresses, 

you. And it may be that there are some of you, who have always 
been good students, and who stand high, as scholars, and who are 
agreeable in all your intercourse with your fellow men, but who 
are yet in a state of condemnation. And must we part with you, 
while you are enemies to God? Can you not love him, who is the 
giver of all good, and who so loved the world, that he gave his 
only begotten son, that whosoever believeth in him, might not 
perish but have everlasting life. Can you be too soon prepared 
for the most certain, and most important of all events? 

Ten, fifteen, twenty, thirty, or even fifty, or sixty years prosper- 
ity in the world, will not make up for the loss of everlasting bliss; 
nor can there be any thing of genuine prosperity, and happiness, 
while the soul is under the curse of God. Godliness is profitable 
unto all things, having the promise of the life, tha.t now is, and of 
that which is to come. 

But you have often been admonished, that though while in youth 
you are to make preparations for a long, and an active life, you 
maybe done with all that belongs to this life in a very few days. — 
There was one of your number; nor is it any discredit to any of 
you to say, that in all the departments, he stood first in the class. 
He was only a year ago, as likely to live till this day, as any of 
you were. But you saw death enter into his vitals. He was as 
the grass, "In the morning it flourisheth and groweth up, but in 
the evening it is cut down, and withereth." M'Laurin stands 
not among you this day. 



september 25, 1833. 
My Young Friends, 

By the continued blessing of your heavenly Father you have 
at last finished your college course. You this day look back upon 
the past, and forward to the future, and. you feel a deep interest in 
both. 

You are only beginning life, and yet you have already passed 
through considerable varieties. You have had your plans, and 
some of them considerably extended ; you have had your hopes 
and your fears, your anxieties, your enjoyments, and your disap- 
pointments. You have already had connections of various kinds 
with your fellow men — agreeable and disagreeable, profitable and 
unprofitable, and some of a longer and some of a shorter duration. 



DR. BISHOr's ADDRESSES. 63 

And, in all these varietic?, you have had, more or less, a develop- 
ment of the great leading principles of human nature, and you have 
been studying yourselves and your fellows, and you have acquired, 
as you suppose, a considerable stock of knowledge of man, as an 
individual, and as a member of society. 

You expect, should Providence continue your lives and your 
health, to be public men : you are to spend your lives in promoting 
the best interests of your fellow men, in some or in all the diversi- 
fied departments of social life. And you expect to stand high. — 
You are commanded even by the Spirit of inspiration to "covet 
earnestly the best gifts." By the time you shall enter upon pub- 
lic life, you shall have passed some ten or twelve years in close 
preparatory study, and shall have expended from two to three 
thousand dollars of what might have been your patrimony. It is 
reasonable, then — it is, in the nature of things, indispensably 
necessary — that you should cherish hopes of usefulness and en- 
joym.ent in some measure commensurate vi^ith the labor, and ex- 
pense, and risk which you have incurred. 

We can cheerfully and heartily this day recommend you to the 
confidence of your friends, and to the confidence of the community. 
We can say that you have minds capable of attending to any kind 
of business which is necessary for the welfare and improvement 
of society. We can say that, during the years you have been con- 
nected with Miami University, there is scarcely one of you who 
has, in a single instance, disappointed our expectations. And we 
can say that, as a class, you command as much talent, and as 
much moral and intellectual attainment as, perhaps, any other 
class of equal numbers, in any part of the United States, have ever 
commanded. But a recomimendation, however strong, and howev- 
er well deserved, is nothing more than an introduction. Unless a 
man can recommend himself by m.anaging his own business and 
the business of others which may be committed to him, the recom- 
mendation of his best and most honest friends will avail him but 
little. 

Many graduates, who are good scholars, and whose standing is 
high among their friends, do not succeed in life so well as many 
who have not half their natural talents, or half their attainments, 
and who have not enjoyed half their advantages. This ought not 
to be so. And there is always some great and essential defect in 
the graduate where it is so. 



64 DR. bishop's addresses. 

It is very common to resolve nearly the whole of such disap- 
pointments into the rude and ignorant state of society. But this 
is not satisfactory. The great body of the community have com- 
mon sense, and they have the power of discrimination, and, gene- 
rally speaking, they are capable of understanding fully their true 
interest, when it is fully and fairly set before them. It is further 
to be remembered, that the great end of all intellectual attainments 
ought to be to fit a man for serving his day and generation in any 
department of life where Providence may cast his lot. The days 
of monkish, inactive literature and science are gone. Hence that 
young man, whatever may be his talents or attainments, and what- 
ever his advantages may have been, who cannot accommodate 
himself to the state of society in which his lot is cast, and with 
which he is to spend his life, has either not enjoyed a good educa- 
tion, or he has not been able to understand one of the chief ends of 
his existence here on earth. 

It never was the design of the Creator and Governor of the 
world, that the great body of the human family should be men of 
learning and science. From the very nature of civil society, the 
great body of the community, old and young, rich and poor, and 
under every form of government, must be employed, directly or 
indirectly, in manual labor. All the converiiencies, and comforts, 
and luxuries of life, must be obtained by the hard manual labor of 
the multitude. But still, it was as little the design of the Creator 
and Preserver of all that the mass of the community should remain, 
in any land, or under any form of government, in ignorance and 
in a rude and uncultivated state. Every human being has a mind 
susceptible of progressive and unlimited improvement. There 
are, indeed, great diversities in these susceptibilities. But these 
very diversities are adapted to the improvement of the whole, and 
to the improvement of every individual. Hence, in the general 
arrangement of every v/ell organized society, there is provision 
made for the intellectual and moral improvement of those who 
have very little time and very few opportunities for close study 
or individual investigation. And this important and responsible 
station is filled, or ought to be filled, by the graduates of our col- 
leges. 

It is a great mistake for any individual, of any class, to suppose 
that his interest and improvement are separated from the interest 



DR. bishop's addresses. 66 

and improvement of the whole community. The rich man is, in 
many cases, more dependent upon the poor man and the day-laborer 
than the poor man is depending upon him. And, upon the same 
principle, the well informed man — the first rate scholar — is, in 
many cases, more dependent upon the ignorant and less informed 
than the less informed is dependent upon him. With this remark- 
able difference, that it is not expected that the less informed man 
should be able to view society in all its ramifications and mutual 
dependencies, or to adapt himself to any thing but one single class 
of circumstances, while it is the professed business of the scholar, 
and the man of science and of general information, to take large 
and commanding views of men and things. 

Human society is one great whole. In this whole every man 
has his proper place assigned him; and he is to labor in his place 
for the good of the whole. And those who have received a liberal 
education, more or less at the public expense, are under peculiar 
obligations to devote their acquirements to the good of the commu- 
nity, and to the good of every individual, and of every class of 
individuals. 

All schools are supported, more or less, by public endowment. 
Our colleges are particularly so: they could not exist so as to be 
accessible to any but the sons of the very wealthiest, were they 
not supported by public funds. And for what purpose are these 
public funds given and continued ? For the good of the whole : — 
that the individuals who enjoy the advantages of these institutions 
may be fitted for communicating to the community at large the 
knowledge and acquirements that they have attained. Public 
funds are devoted to the support of colleges for the same general 
purpose for which public funds are expended in opening and keep- 
ing in repair canals and navigable rivers. It is but few, compara- 
tively speaking, who, personally, make any use of these public 
highways. But every individual, man, woman and child, mer- 
chant, mechanic and day-laborer, receives, daily, a vast amount of 
benefit from these public expenditures. In like manner, not one 
in the thousand has ever any occasion to call for the official servi- 
ces of the judges of law, in the district or supreme courts, while 
every individual in the community is, daily and hourly, enjoying 
a vast amount of benefit from these judges being supported at the 
public expense. Hence, the graduate of a college must be very 

9 



66 

unfaithful to himself, and very unfaithful to his fellow men, who i^ 
not continually devising and executing some means by which all 
the benefits of a liberal education may, in some sense or other^ 
become common property. He must, of course, be, in some of the 
departments of life, a public man: a man of business, and a man 
who can make himself agreeable and useful to all with whom he 
has intercourse. But to do so is no easy matter. It will require 
continual study and continual exertion. And a man, to be useful 
in his day and generation, must end his studies, and end his labors 
only v/ith his life. All he has acquired in college can be nothing 
more but the alphabet of his education. Farther: 

It is no uncommon thing for young men of high intellectual tal- 
ents and attainments, to disappoint their own expectations, and the 
expectation of their friends, by supposing that, in order to stand 
high, or even to be useful, they must be known, and known imme- 
diately, as great men. This is another great mistake; the suppo- 
sition is contrary to all the analogies of nature. The richest crops 
are produced by the slow and silent operation of nature, which 
is generally too minute to be an object of any of the senses. The 
gourd, which springs up in a night, perishes also in a night j but 
the oak, v/hich is to last for generations, is the growth of genera- 
tions. In reading the lives of the most eminent and useful men, 
you w^ill find that, with very few exceptions, they were actively 
and extensively useful, in their different departments, years upon 
years, before they were known as great men; and that, when they 
became known to the world as evidently great, their activity and 
personal exertions were nearly at an end. 

The general rule, then, is: If you are to be great and useful 
men, lose no time in fixing upon your profession, or business for 
life. Having entered upon your profession, attend to your own 
proper business, and attend to other business only as it is connected 
with your own. Let every power and every thought be devoted 
to your great object. In the language of Scripture: "Whatsoever 
thy hand findeth to do, in your proper department, do it with your 
might." And let the obtaining of a name among the great men of 
the earth be only a secondary object. 

You are to go forth into the world, and you are to mix with men 
of all classes, and of all states of intellectual and moral improve- 
Xiient; and you are to make your appearance among these as men of 



DR. bishop's addresses. 67 

knowledge, and of refinement, and as men of superior minds. All 
this is well, and all this will be allowed you, if you are not unfaith- 
ful to yourselves. But a very little imprudence may deprive you 
of all these advantages. Beware, then, of the pride of knowledge. 
Beware of undervaluing the talents or attainments, or moral or 
intellectual character of any, however humble, with whom you 
may have intercourse. You will find, in the humblest walks of 
life, and under the most unfavorable circumstances for improve- 
ment, some who will be your superiors in something that is truly 
excellent. And what men would many of these have been, had 
they, in early life, enjoyed the advantage which you have enjoyed ? 
But even granting that they are your inferiors in every thing, 
recollect the obligations under which you are, to communicate 
freely of your store to the needy and to those who have been less 
favored. And you will find, in all such cases, that "there is that 
giveth and yetincreaseth, and that there is who withholdeth more 
than is meet, and it tendeth to poverty." 

In whatever department of life your lot may be cast, you are to 
take your standing as men of knov/ledge and influence, and you 
and others, who have enjoyed similar advantages, are to correct 
errors, reform abuses, and both in modes of speaking and modes of 
acting. And we shall take it for granted that you will always 
have truth on your side, and that you will never recommend any 
change of opinion, or change of measures, without being able to 
support the recommendation with good solid arguments. But 
granting all which is a little more than will be always found in 
practice. Be not too sanguine in your expectations of your suc- 
cess: lay your account to meet with difficulties. You as yet know 
little more than a theory of men and things; you have a great 
deal to learn as to the proper time and proper mode of applying 
first principles to active life. And in active life you will find many 
men your superiors in this all important branch of knowledge, 
who have not read half the books which you have read, and who 
have not any thing like the power of thinking and reasoning that 
you have. Hence, if you would succeed in producing any great 
and permanent improvements in society, you must be content to 
sit a considerable time at the feet of some of these men. 

Young men are often by far too sanguine in their expectations 
of success in dealing with the minds of other men. They do not 



68 DR. BISHOP^S ADDEESSES. 

consider how long they themselves were in obtaining their superior 
knowledge, and how many mistakes in their own mode of think-, 
ing they have already corrected, and how little, after all, they 
really do know. Nor do they consider how unreasonable it is to 
expect that men who have, by the habits of years, and perhaps by 
the habits of generations, been confirmed in their opinions, and in 
their general course of conduct, should be convinced of error or 
mistake at the very first or second representation of its opposite, 
and that too by a young man who, as yet, has no'established char- 
acter. 

It is farther of vast importance for a young man, in these mat- 
ters to understand well the difference there is betwixt temporary 
and lasting success, particularly in the art of persuasion. There 
are m.en to be found in public life, who are always in a bustle, and 
always making a noise, and generally if not always followed by 
a crowd. And yet these men are rarely ever found producing any 
lasting good effects; and they rarely continue their labors long in 
any one place. Hence, they are not generally the most useful 
men. It is much better therefore, for a young man beginning 
life, to take his station; to mark out his boundaries; to fix upon 
some distinct and definite object, and to consider well the means, 
which are necessary for obtaining that object in a given time ; 
and then set himself seriously and perseveringly to work. "In 
the morning sow thy seed, and in the evening withhold not thy 
hand." It was in this way your fathers subdued the forests of 
ages, and substituted in their places the farms, and the villages, 
and the cities, and the canals, and the rail-roads which you enjoy. 

We notice one more very common mistake. Many young men 
who are otherwise exceedingly well qualified for being useful in 
their day and generation, destroy in a great measure all their 
prospects of usefulness, by unnecessarily engaging in controver-. 
sy. Every neighborhood, and every generation, and every year 
has in all the departments of life, its peculiar, and local, and tem- 
porary causes of controversy. And these controversies are gene- 
rally carried on while they last, with uncommon warmth, and are 
swelled in the discussion, to matters on which the welfare of the 
nation, and of the world, and of unborn generations, depends. — 
And yet after all, they are generally very little things; things 
which never ought for a moment to disturb the peace of a man of 



DR. bishop's addresses. 69 

general information. It is extremely foolish then in a young man 
entering upon life, to involve himself in the iniquities of his fa- 
thers, and to waste his talents and blast his prospects of usefulness 
and comfort, by partaking in a controversy which after all par- 
ties have exhausted their strength, will likely leave the original 
matter of dispute just as it was. 

The general rule then here is: Take large and extended viev/s 
of men and things : understand well the great and leading princi- 
ples upon which the welfare of individuals and of society depends, 
and apply and act out these principles as the circumstances of the 
time and place will permit. Be as far as possible, every man's 
friend, Be men of peace and of mutual forbearance, with respect 
to the thousand little things which have often disturbed the peace 
of communities. Never meddle but when clearly called to it, 
with other men's business; and particularly never meddle till the 
very last extremity, with other men's quarrels. Remember the 
wise man's saying, "He who passeth by and meddleth with 
strife belonging not to him, is like one who taketh a dog by the 
ears." 

We close, as on former occasions, by calling your attention to 
the ONE THING NEEDFUL. You are and always will be dependent 
creatures. You always will be dependent on the God who made 
you, for your life, and for your powers of mind, and for your dai- 
ly sustenance, and for all your opportunities of action and enjoy- 
ment. And all your friends upon whose assistance you are more 
or less to depend every day, will always be as they always have 
been equally dependent. It is therefore, the consummation of 
folly and madness, for any man either young or old, to suppose 
that he can eventually succeed in any plan, or in any course of 
conduct, where this dependence is not on all occasions most cheer- 
fully acknowledged. 

You are the members ol a Christian, not of a Pagan, or Moham- 
medan community; and you are to serve this community, not as a 
Pagan or Mohammedan, but as a Christian. You have thus far 
been brought up in the nurture and admonition of the Lord. The 
Bible was put into your hands with your first book; and it has 
been continued with you as a text book, and book of reference and 
daily perusal to this day. Of every one of you it may be said, 
i^ihai from a child thou hast known the Holy Scriptures, which are 



70 DR. bishop's addresses. 

able to make thee wise unto salvation, through faith which is in 
Christ Jesus." And is any one of you when now about to make 
his appearance as a graduate of a college, and to take his stand in 
the world as a public man, and a man of knowledge and influ- 
ence, ready to renounce the God of his fathers, and the Bible 
of his fathers, and all the hopes of the glorious immortality of 
the Bible, or any of the public or private institutions of the Bi- 
ble? Renounce any of these institutions which have in a great 
measure, made him thus far what he is, and which have been the 
great means of preserving him from ignorance and vice, and of 
cherishing in him every thing which is noble and excellent? 

You may, my young friends, with perfect safety from this day 
lay aside the perusal of all your other text books; you have now 
exhausted their contents. These books are only elementary. — 
They are like the spelling book in our common schools. And as 
you are to be men of business, you must now find other books in 
which these elements with which you are familiar, are incorpo- 
rated with the business of life. But you v/ill find no book on 
earth, which will fill the place of the Bible. Here the theory and 
the practice are combined ; and they are both inexhaustible. The 
Bible is like the earth from which all our family derive their an- 
nual and their daily sustenance. Year after 5'ear, month after 
month, day after day, it is teeming with the most precious, and 
with the most indispensable fruits; with this difference, that to en- 
joy these fruits, every man must turn up the soil, and must gather 
them for himself. 

As public men also, to be useful in your day and generation, you 
must recommend the Bible, and the doctrines and institutions of 
the Bible, to the whole community. These doctrines and institu- 
tions are the hope of our world. Banish the Bible and its in- 
stitutions from our land, or from any land, and you bring man- 
kind back again to the dark ages. The experiment has already 
been made; and every well wisher to the happiness and improve- 
ment of society, must shudder at the thought of making a second 
experiment. But on the other hand, carry the influence of the 
Bible and of Bible institutions into every family and into all the 
departments of life, and you elevate human character, and you di- 
minish crime and misery, and you multiply the comforts and con- 
veniences of life; so that **there shall be nothing to hurt or to de- 



DR. bishop's addresses. 71 

stroy in all God's holy mountain, and every man all over the globe, 
shall be found sitting under his own vine and' under his own fig- 
tree, and none to make him afraid." 

Personally also, your interest and your happiness are insepa- 
rably connected with your daily perusal of the Bible. "The Scrip- 
tures, and the Scriptures only are able to make you wise unto sal- 
vation, through faith ^which is in Christ Jesus." You are in 
yourselves lost, condemned, helpless sinners. It is in the Bible 
only that a full, and a free, and a suitable salvation is made known. 
It is by the constant and daily use of the institutions of the Bible 
only that men can enjoy the benefit of this salvation. Each man 
must, to be saved, read, and study, and receive, and act in this 
great matter for himself He who belie veth and is baptised, shall 
be saved. He who continues in unbelief, and who continues to 
set at nought the institutions, and doctrines, and means of salva- 
tion in the Bible, must perish. Yes. Whatever may have been 
his talents and attainments, and standing and influence in society, 
if he has no personal interest in the salvation through our Lord 
Jesus Christ, he must perish. 



september 24, 1834. 
Gentlemen, 

Gradital development is one of the distinguishing character- 
istics of all Jehovah's works. And, to trace the various steps by 
which these numerous and various developments are daily exhib- 
ited, has always been an agreeable and profitable exercise to con- 
templative minds. Hour after hour has thus been spent, and pleas- 
ure upon pleasure has thus been enjoyed, while marking the vari- 
ous changes which are continually taking place in the forms and in 
the qualities of the particular objects of attention, while it ad- 
vances from the first germ of its existence to its state of perfection. 
And, among the innumerable_[astonishing facts which are every 
where the result of such investigations, this is none of the least, 
that, while the forms and the qualities of the man or the animal 
are continually changing, the leading features, which mark the 
identity of the individual, remain, in a great measure, unchanged. 
The man of sixty, with whom you had an interview yesterday, 
was soon recognized by another old man as having been his friend 
and his playmate fifty years ago, though they had not seen each 
other during the whole of these fifty years. 



72 DR. bishop's addresses. 

What is applicable to man, as an individual, is equally applicable 
to that indefinite collection of men which we call human society. 
Under all the modifications to which this collection is liable, it 
remains, under the government and protection of the Lord of the 
Universe, one great undivided whole. Like the atmosphere, it is 
composed of an inconceivable number of individuals. These indi- 
viduals came into existence, at regular and short intervals, in suc- 
cessive generations. They are continually changing their charac- 
ters, and shifting their relative position. There are always, in 
every portion of the whole, the young and the old, and the middle 
aged. The period of duration for the whole extends from six 
thousand to eight or ten, or, perhaps, to twenty thousand years. — 
The mass, in various groups, is spread over the whole surface of 
the globe — over the waters as well as over the dry land. And the 
whole, and every part of this mighty mass, is continually subject- 
ed to an infinite variety of powerful external as well as internal 
agents. And yet, under all the changes which are the natural 
results of these continued and varied operations,, the identical char- 
acteristics of the body, as a whole, remain unchanged. The ele- 
ments of civil and religious society are substantially the same in 
America that they are in Asia, or in Europe, or in Africa — the 
same this year, all over the world, that they were six thousand 
years ago. Were it not so, the men of the present generation could 
derive no real or lasting advantage from their knowledge of either 
the wisdom or folly, the virtues or vices, of the men who lived 
and acted in former generations, or who are now living and acting 
in different and far distant parts of the earth. But, recognizing 
the fact that the elements of human society are every where, and 
in all generations, the same, we collect facts and make deductions 
in the philosophy of social relations in the same way that we col- 
lect facts and make deductions in any of the departments of physic- 
al science. ' 

Gradual development is equally enstamped upon society as upon 
the individual. And the means by which the latent powers of the 
whole may be brought forth into action and applied to their proper 
objects, are substantially the same by which the physical, and intel- 
lectual, and moral powers of the individual are excited, and direct- 
ed, and improved. For this plain reason: — Every portion of this 
extensive, and some times apparently unwieldy and disorderly 



M. bishop's addresses; 73 

Vnass, receives and preserves its particular character from the ag- 
gregate character of the individuals of which it is composed. 

All the means which can be used for the improvement of the in- 
dividual, or society, have one common object, viz : the generating, 
or preserving, or communicating knowledge. And, however nu- 
merous or various these means may be, they all produce the desired 
effect, by mind acting upon mind. Inform or excite one mind, and 
that mind immediately informs or excites another mind. And 
then there is a reaction. The man v/ho takes an interest in pro- 
ducing mental action in another, is himself awakened and informed, 
and brings into exercise a great variety of powers, which, without 
having an object of this kind, were dormant or unknown. Hence, 
all over the world, and in every state of society, improvement is 
rapid, and extensive, and valuable, just in proportion to the fre- 
quency and the extent of mental action and reaction. 

The improvement of society has been and will be progressive. 
Hence, in reviewing the history of the human family, we find that 
the means of individual and social improvement have been, under 
the arrangement of Providence, regularly and gradually multiplied 
and extended from the beginning to, the present day. Men have 
always multiplied as the means of support have multiplied. And 
again, the multiplication of men has always increased the demand 
for the means of support. And this increased demand multiples 
and varies the exertions which are necessary to make the earth 
and the other sources of human support productive. And, finally, 
the human mind every where unfolds its powers in proportion to 
the number, and the variety, and the magnitude of the objects with 
which it is conversant. 

There was a period in the history of man when writing and 
letters were not known ; or, if known, were used only by the few. 
Nor w^as this a short period. It extended from Adam to Moses— 
a space of tw^o thousand years — fully one third of the whole dura- 
tion from the creation to the present period. And there were many 
great men, even men of renown, during those days. 

It was then that the Jewish patriarchs lived and walked with 
God, and entertained angels in their tents. All the mechanic, and 
many of the ornamental arts, had their origin in that period. — 
Egypt, the first of kingdoms, and the cradle of literature and sci- 
ence, sprung up and obtained, and enjoyed her power and glory 

to 



74 DR. BISHOP^S ADDRESSES. 

during that period. It was then that the Chaldean and Babylonian 
philosophy and astronomy were cultivated. Then were also the 
Phcenicians, the first of commercial nations who explored, as the 
modern English have done, the utmost ends of the earth. And 
then were the thirty and one kingdoms of Canaan, and the one 
hundred kingdoms of Lesser Asia, and the Isles of the sea, which 
had their hosts of wise and mighty men, who had their plans and 
schemes of personal and national elevation, and their dreams of 
founding eternal cities, and of being the fathers of systems and 
policies which should be known and acted upon to the last genera- 
tion of men. 

There was another, and it was along and important period, in 
the history of our race, when printing was not known, and when, 
of course, books, as we now have them, did not exist. This period 
extended from Moses to the Reformation, being a space of upwards 
of three thousand years. 

In this period we have the history of the second Assyrian or 
Babylonian, and the Persian, and Greek, and Roman empires. — 
The philosophy and fine arts of Greece and Rome are, of course, 
included in this period, as also the overturning of the Roman em- 
pire, and the establishment upon its ruins of the Turkish domin- 
ions in Asia and Africa, and of the feudal kingdoms in Europe. — 
But what is of far more importance in the history of the develop- 
ments of the human mind, and of the arrangements of Providence, 
it was in this period that the gospel was preached to all the na- 
tions of the earth; and that churches were founded all over the 
world; and that men, by the hundred's and by the thousands, were, 
"by the foolishness of preaching," delivered from the darkness and 
superstition of ages, and made fit for the enjoyment of the inherit- 
ance of the saints in light. It was during the progress of this 
great moral revolution that the Greek and Latin fathers of the 
Christian Church lived, and acted, and wrote, and published. And 
yet these men and their coadjutors did all this without any of those 
facilities connected with printing and circulating yearly, and 
monthly, and weekly, and daily publications, with which we are 
familiar. 

We cannot, at this time, enter into any detail as to the various 
modes of giving and receiving, and of generating and preserving 
knowledge, which are all the results of the art of printing, and 



DR. BISHOP'S ADDRESSES. 75 

which particularly distinguish the present age. We only say, 
that, comparing the present state of society in Protestant countries 
with what the state was in Europe previous to the era of the Re- 
formation, we find that Old Testament prophecy is, to a consider- 
able degree, fulfilled. "The light of the moon shall be as the light 
of the sun, and the light of the sun shall be seven-fold as the light 
of seven days, in the day that the Lord bindeth up the breach of 
his people, and healeth the stroke of their wound." And yet we 
only enjoy the twilight of the glorious day. 

We close, therefore, by requesting you to remember and to carry 
with you through life, two great facts, which, if duly attended to, 
will be found to be always great and powerful motives to action. 
1st, Human society is one great whole, and is so constituted, that 
the various ways in which one mind acts upon other minds are 
literally infinite. Every mind which does act upon its fellow 
mind, in the present state of existence, may, by a single act, extend 
and perpetuate its influence over the character and destiny of 
mind to the very last generation of men. 

Can you tell me who suggested the first thought of a represent- 
ative republican government? Or can you tell me from what a 
variety of minds, and from what distant countries and ages, the 
principles which are embodied in the constitution of the United 
States have been derived ? Or can you tell me the influence which 
the American Revolution has had upon the character and desti- 
nies of men in Europe and America, and in Asia and in Africa, 
during the last thirty years? Or can you form any estimate of 
the probable results of this revolution at the end of the next period 
of thirty or fifty years ? 

Make similar inquiries as to Sabbath schools, and education asso- 
ciations, and missionary arrangements; and calculate, if you can, 
the results on the character and destiny of the human family, by 
the end of the second or third generation from this time. 

2d. I wish you to carry along with you, as a second fact, that 
the improvement of society is always in the direct ratio that im- 
proved and cultivated minds have upon one another. The influ- 
ence of only one well informed mind upon an ignorant and corrupt- 
ed community is small when compared with the combined influ- 
ence of some six, or eight, or ten kindred spirits. 

Bring the half of any community into a state of improvement 



76 Dll. BIS£[0P^S ADDRESSES. 

equal id that of the eight or ten, and calculate, if you can, th^ 
results in a given period. But let two thirds or the whole of the 
community, be in a high state of intellectual and moral improve- 
ment, and let such minds act and react upon one another, and the 
results will exceed, not only all calculation, but even all our pres- 
ent standards of excellence, the Bible only excepted. And reve- 
lation, and the present arrangements of Providence, lead us to the 
belief that thei'e will be something like this high and general, if 
not universal state of intellectual and moral improvement, in many 
very extensive portions of the globe, before another period of fifty 
years shall have passed away. 

And now, my young friends, we are to part, and this parting i^ 
not only between the teachers and the taught, but the class, and 
nearly all the other associations connected with a college life, are 
to be broken up. This day, in the course of an hour or two, you 
separate, never more again to meet in any one place on earth, till 
all the individuals of all nations, and of all classes and conditions 
of men, shall be assembled before the Judge of the quick and the 
dead. 

You leave this place and travel on in all directions; and you are 
to become immediately, or very soon, the integral parts of new 
associations, and of many new combinations which are still un- 
known, because not in existence. And you are to have your indi- 
vidual places and spheres of action, and influences in all the rami- 
fications and in all the modifications of that extensive and moving, 
and ever changing, though still unbroken mass, called human 
society. 

And you part as you came together, and as you have been to- 
gether, under an unutterable weight of responsibility to God and 
to one another, and to thousands of your fellow men, with whom 
you may come into direct contact, and to millions both of the pres- 
ent and of the unborn generations, upon whom you are to exert an 
extensive influence, from the single fact that they and you are 
essential parts of one great unbroken and undivided whole. And 
when we shall again meet it shall be when "every man shall give 
an account of himself in the judgment." 

We commit you to the care and the protection of the God of your 
fathers. May he be your portion. May his work be your work, 
and his people your people. And then our next meeting will be a 
happy meeting. 



ANNIVERSARY ADDRESSES 



DELIVERED BEFORE THE 



ERODELPHIAN 



AND 



UNION LITERARY SOCIETIES. 



PREFATORY NOTICE. 



The following addresses were delivered before the Erodelphian 

and Union Literary Societies, on anniversary occasions, by request; 

and published separately. They have all been distributed ; and 

many who are anxious to procure and preserve them, cannot be 

accommodated: on this account the Societies cordially co-operate 

in publishing them in a connected form, and with other coincident 

matter. Moreover, it is confidently believed that the volume of 

which they form a part will be contributive, in some degree, in 

promoting the interests of literature and sound morals, the grand 

object for which our associations were formed. 

In behalf of the 

CHuGH Lancaster, 
Erodelphian and <J. G. Monfort, 
(James Brown, 

rr ' TU CJ- PuRSELL, 

Union Literary U p ^^^^ 



Societies. 
Miami University, February 10, 1836 



S. MOORHEAD, 

Joint Committee. 



ADDRESS, 

BY BENJAMIN DRAKE, ESQ. 

delivered on the sixth anniversary of the erodelphian society, 
september 27, 1831. 

Gentlemen of the Erodelphian Society, 

The recurring anniversary of our society is a period of more 
than ordinary interest. Not a few of the members who have gone 
forth upon the busy theatre of human affairs, return to their alma 
mater, on this occasion, to mingle in its social and intellectual fes- 
tivity; others, in succession, take their farewell of the University? 
and the cherished companions with whom they have run their col- 
legiate course. It becomes, therefore, a day of salutation and of 
parting, at once enlivened by congratulations and saddened by 
regrets. Without indulging, however, in the deep-toned feelings 
inspired by these circumstances, I shall proceed in the discharge 
of the duty with which you have kindly honored me. 

We have not convened this evening, gentlemen, to partake of 
the pleasures of the convivial board, nor the excitement of the 
stock exchange. We come not as heated and boisterous partizans 
into the political arena; we do homage to no triumphant hero; — 
commemorate the birthday of no royal bantling; but here, in this 
quiet retreat, on the enlivening anniversary of our society, its 
members, pausing once more in their career of business and knowl- 
edge, have assembled to enjoy the reminiscences of their early 
literary pilgrimage, arouse in each other a spirit of laudable am- 
bition, and accumulate fresh ardor in the race of usefulness and 
glory. 



80 B. drake's address. 

A careful observance of passing events will lead to the conclu- 
sion, that the present is an age at once interesting and remarkable. 
In tracing back the pages of history until the mind is lost in the 
twilight of antiquity, scarcely a period can be found bearing any 
just comparison with the present. In looking abroad, we feel that 
there is every where a degree of freedom, of moral elevation, bold 
and restless enterprise, individual comfort, and wide spread intel- 
ligence, to which former ages furnish no parallels. In these things, 
constituting, as they do, the true greatness of a people, even the 
proud and palmy days of the ancient republics, when civil and 
military renown, liberty, and the arts, shone with their brightest 
splendor, bear but a feeble comparison with the present. History 
may dwell upon the power and glory of Egypt, of Greece, of Rome; 
she may point triumphantly to the colossean pyramids of the Nile, 
the crumbling temples of Athens, the marble columns of Augustus,- 
but in what did the greatness of these countries consist? Not in 
the freedom, the intelligence, the happiness of the people ; on the 
contrary, the mass of their population were impoverished, illiter- 
ate, and abased; dragging out a miserable servitude in the con- 
struction of magnificent works, to gratify the ambition of a tyrant ; 
or fighting the battles of an arrogant republic, that its eagles might 
wing their triumphant flight over conquered kingdoms. A chosen 
few were enlightened and powerful, while, over the many, igno- 
rance and despotism hung for centuries, like a black and baleful 
cloud. 

The pervading bias of the present age is an inquisitive and en- 
lightened spirit of research, running, not merely in narrow chan- 
nels, among certain classes, but pervading every rank of society, 
and mingling with all the affairs of man. Nothing is now taken 
upon trust. The long established systems of government — opin- 
ions venerable for their antiquity — the prevailing axioms in poli- 
tics, morals, and physics — arc questioned, and brought to the stand- 
ard of truth, with a degree of boldness unknown before the middle 
of the last century. 

Among a variety of causes, the art of printing has contributed, 
more than any other, to produce and keep alive this spirit of inqui- 
ry. The press has become a mighty engine for the dissemination 
of knowledge, rendering individuals and nations familiar with 
each other, and their sentiments, arts, literature, and improve- 



B. drake's address. 81 

ments, the common property of the whole. No efforts, without 
the aid of this invention, could have brought learning within the 
reach of the mass of mankind. The process of transcribing books 
is too slow and expensive to place them in the hands of any but 
the rich: this magic art has so multiplied and cheapened them, 
that they are now attainable by nearly all who are able to read. — 
We have become so familiar with the operations of the press as 
to lose sight of its achievements. A single example may serve to 
illustrate its wonderful power: — The steam engine which prints 
the London Times^ one of the largest papers of the British me- 
tropolis, throws off, perfectly printed, four thousand sheets per 
hour. It has been computed that, to prepare with a pen, in the 
same time, the number of papers circulated daily, by the proprie- 
tor of the Times, would require a million and a half of scribes. 

The facilities of travelling by sea and land, which mark pecu- 
liarly the present age, have materially co-operated with the press 
in the dissemination of knowledge. The extended navigation of 
the ocean — the multiplication of canals — the invention of steam- 
boats, one of the most splendid triumphs of human genius — the 
construction of rail-roads — and other modes of conveyance uniting 
comfort and celerity, are exerting a prodigious influence in the 
correction of errors of opinion, the advancement of literature and 
the arts, the diffusion of religion, and the reformation of govern- 
ments. 

A further illustration of the peculiar character of the age, may 
be drawn from the physical condition of the species. A general 
amelioration of their circumstances has taken place. Many of 
the loathsome and mortal diseases which formerly afflicted the 
human family, scourging and depopulating cities and kingdoms, 
and setting medical skill at defiance, have either wholly disap- 
peared, or so far yielded to the power of medicine, as to carry 
with them no longer the dread of desolation and death. 

The houses, dress and food of mankind have undergone corre- 
sponding improvements. In most countries the inhabitants are 
better clothed and fed than in previous ages, while the effects of 
machinery, every where felt and acknowledged, are constantly 
lessening the necessity of manual labor, and augmenting the com- 
forts and luxuries of life- 

The present, indeed, has been appropriately termed the age of 



82 B. drake's address. 

invention and discovery. Labor-saving machines are multiplied 
to an extraordinary degree. No one, at the present day, is bold 
enough to assign limits to human ingenuity. Man is no longer 
content to gaze with inactivity upon the many wonders the me- 
chanic arts have performed. Animated by the opulence of human 
power, whose magic creations meet him at every step, he is not 
likely to rest until the vast field of nature has been traversed and 
all objects subjected to his dominion. The ultimate influence of the 
mechanic arts on the moral and physical condition of our species? 
must present to the philosophic mind a theme of the deepest in- 
terest. 

Ancient systems of war have been modified until many of its 
appalling cruelties are banished from the field, while the prevail- 
ing sentiment of most of the European, as well as American na- 
tions, is decidedly pacific. The pen and the press are supersed- 
ing the sword and the bayonet, in the adjustment of intestine com- 
motions and national disputes. 

The subject of education presents another distinguished feature 
in the signs of the times. The present systematic efforts for the 
cultivation of the mind, are far greater than those of any former 
period. This cause is no longer left to the caprices of ignorant 
parents, or the benevolent labors of a few individuals j it is now 
fostered in many countries by the power and the purse of govern- 
ment. The establishment of Sunday schools is, of itself, sufficient 
to confer distinction on the age in which we live. A public char- 
ity which sets apart one day in seven for the moral, religious, and 
literary instruction of the rising generation, cannot fail to exert 
the happiest influence upon the condition and prospects of mankind. 
Intimately associated with this is another modern institution, equal- 
ly entitled to commendation. I refer to the society for placing the 
Bible, "without note or comment," within the reach of every fam- 
ily. Let the schoolmaster and the missionary traverse the most 
benighted land, and brighter hopes and fairer prospects will speed- 
ily dawn on its inhabitants. These pioneers free the human mind 
from its mental and moral bondage : teach men their rights, and 
the means of sustaining them; their duties, and the mode of dis- 
charging them. Their march is bloodless — their conquests are 
the triumphs of liberty, intelligence, and religion. Under their 
guidance a political movement commencing with the glorious 



B. drake's address. 83 

Revolution of American Independence, is now going on, to be 
"marked, no doubt, by great vicissitudes, to prosper and be retard- 
ed, to be alternately the object of anxiety and admiration, fear and 
hope : to be hailed with rapture, to be misrepresented, to be vili- 
fied,- but, destined to go on, and unfold a mighty train of the most 
momentous and, as we firmly trust, the most auspicious conse- 
quences." 

I need not remind you, gentlemen, that entering on the career 
of manhood under these circumstances, throws you upon the per- 
formance of more than ordinary duties : duties not merely of a 
negative or selfish, but of a high and liberal cast — such as become 
the alumni of this rising institution — sueh as become the educated 
sons of a republic, marching, even in her youth, in the front of all 
other nations. Most of you are genuine backwoodsmen — a proud 
title, which, if I may test your feelings by my own, not one of you 
would barter for a higher sounding name. You are natives of the 
West — indigenous sons of the Mississippi valley, the fairest and 
youngest portion of our country. You are the descendants of the in- 
trepid pioneers who conquered the Indian and subdued the wilder- 
ness, many of whom still live to behold the wild region their enter- 
prize reclaimed teeming with millions of intelligent beings. Won- 
derful change ! The ordinary events of centuries crowded into 
the life of a single individual! 

As the educated sons of the West, you have duties to perform, 
varied in character and elevated in kind. Your co-operation is 
expected in weaving the coronal of Backwoods literature; in pre- 
serving unspotted the ermine of our jurisprudence ; in sustaining the 
integrity of our political institutions; in assuming the sacred office 
of winning man from the downward paths of vice and error, to 
life and immortality. You are placed in the physical centre of this 
mighty republic; let it be your aim to render it the centre of litera- 
ture, morals, and religion. Like your own beautiful Ohio, which 
gushes fresh and pellucid from the bosom of the mountain, and, 
with accumulating volume, stretches onward to the ocean, diffusing 
life, wealth, and fertility along its shores, may it be your proud 
destiny to cause this magnificent valley to send up the pure streams 
of learning, knowledge, and patriotism, that shall flow to the re- 
motest limits of the republic, sweeping away sectional jealousies, 
giving perpetuity to the union, and happiness to the people. 



84 B. drake's address. 

It is not my object, on the present occasion, gentlemen, to insti- 
tute an inquiry concerning the prevailing errors or excellencies 
of our higher institutions of learning. Of the great value of a 
well regulated collegiate education there can be, it is thought, no 
diversity of opinion. It has been a matter of some regret, how- 
ever, that an undue proportion of the young men educated within 
our colleges, either fall by the way side or are ultimately surpas- 
sed in the race of literary and professional distinction, by those 
who have never trodden the academic groves. This, no doubt, is 
oftentimes the result of a defective system of study, such as Milton 
quaintly describes, as the scholastic grossness of barbarous ages, 
that, "instead of beginning with arts most easy, they present their 
unmatriculated novices, at first coming with the most intellective 
abstractions of logic and metaphysics : so that they, having but 
nev/ly left those grammatical flats and shallows, where they stuck 
unseasonably to learn a few words with lamentable construction, 
and, on a sudden, transplanted under another climate, to be tossed 
and tormented by their unbalanced wits, in fathomless and unquiet 
deeps of controversy, do, for the most part, grow into hatred and 
contempt of learning, mocked and deluded all this while with rag- 
ged notions and babblements, while they expected worthy and de- 
lightful knowledge." In numerous cases, however, it appears to 
be the result of mistaken views on the part of the graduates, many 
of whom, greatly enamored of their diplomas, ever afterwards 
place their reliance upon them. Having long toiled over their 
books, having won the approbation of their teachers, and finally 
received the full honors of the institution, the idea of being on the 
same intellectual level with those who have neither partaken their 
labors nor shared their rewards, is forever banished from their 
minds : they refer complacently to their parchments, and on them 
they are content to repose. The result is obvious : a race of edu- 
cated idlers, of superficial lawyers, of ignorant physicians, of flip- 
pant divines, is thrown upon the community, to swell the. popular 
prejudices against our higher seminaries of learning. 

Not so, in many instances, with those young men whose fortunes 
have debarred them the advantage of a liberal education, who have 
had no instructor but the village schoolmaster — no alma mater but 
the log school house. Conscious of their defective education, they 
labor to supply its deficiencies; schooled in adversity, they be- 



B. drake's address. 86 

Gome habituated to systematic industry; having no collegiate hon- 
ors on which to rely, and aware that unwearied diligence can alone 
place them on a level with their classic brethren, they become dis- 
ciplined in a habit of intellectual exertion, that ultimately carries 
them beyond their most opulent competitors. 

The graduates of our universities should bear in mind that, in 
the attainment of their classic honors, they have merely laid a 
foundation, on which is to be erected the superstructure of their 
future reputation. They have, it is true, sojourned within the 
halls of science; they have wandered in the groves which surround 
them; they have listened, in the portico, to the eloquent teach- 
ings of their professors: but all these are simply designed to in- 
spire the love of knowledge, and to point out the modes of attain- 
ing it. By skilful and experienced leaders, they have been made 
familiar with the armory of learning. Let them now gird it on, 
and resolutely encounter the many obstacles which on every side 
beset the devious paths leading to the great temple of fame. 

There is another cause worthy of being named, which often ex- 
erts a blighting influence on the alumni of our universities. They 
are apt to imagine that the fact of their having been called to re- 
ceive a collegiate education, is an evidence of possessing genius: 
and, acting upon the too prevalent opinion, that it is not only un- 
necessary, but beneath the dignity of genius to study: not a few 
are shipwrecked by this fatal error. It may be safely asserted, 
that he who relies upon genius, no matter how eminently gifted, 
will, sooner or later, be surpassed by those, however inferior in 
intellect, who engage in courses of systematic study. Diligent 
and well directed application is the great leveller of mental en- 
dowments, and, in the lapse of a few years, places the dull and 
the brilliant side by side. That there are striking diversities in 
the powers of the mind, I will not deny; but the doctrine contend- 
ed for is, that the sublimest genius which ever animated a human 
being could have accomplished nothing worthy its elevated nature, 
without severe and unmitigated labor. Even the immortal New- 
ton — and a more illustrious example cannot be cited — bears testi- 
mony to this fact. He was himself a patient and laborious stu- 
dent. In the words of a cotemporary writer, "it is the deepest soil 
that yields, not only the richest fruits, but the fairest flowers; it is 
the most solid body which is not only the most useful, but which 

12 



86 

admits of the highest polish and brilliancy; it is the strongest pin- 
ion which not only can carry the greatest burden, but which soars 
to the loftiest flight." 

Again : It is of frequent occurrence that young collegians, after 
entering upon their professions with the liveliest enthusiasm, are 
soonest discouraged. Kelying upon their scholastic attainments, 
they are too confident of the speedy acquisition of professional 
honor and emolument. They endure their probationary period 
with impatience, and, as the time rolls sluggishly along, bringing 
little demand for their pleas or prescriptions, they become restless 
and discouraged. Perhaps they behold some of their young 
brethren of inferior opportunities outstripping them in business, 
and they are mortified at their own failure : their pecuniary means 
being exhausted, they lament their choice of a profession in which 
they fancy success is not the consequence of merit : their books 
lose their wonted interest, their offices cease to be pleasant re- 
treats. Hence, they first run to the enjoyments of society for re- 
lief, then to its follies, and, finally, its dissipations; every new 
step diminishing their prospects of business, each successive day 
weakening those moral ties which ialone bind us to an honorable 
life,- until drinking and gaming, with their attendant vices, follow, 
and they are lost forever. Would that I could impress it upon the 
young aspirant for business, that he who is fortified by industry, 
by sound morals, by an inflexible determination to succeed, no mat- 
ter in what occupation or profession he may be engaged, will sel- 
dom, if ever, taste the bitter cup of disappointment. The struggle 
may be protracted : he may be compelled to wait for months, and 
even years; a thick gloom may overshadow his prospects; all the 
bright anticipations of youth be apparently blasted; still he must 
not despair: these untoward circumstances should inspire him 
with fresh ardor in his career, and animate him, to continued per- 
severance. Let him unfurl his banner within the walls of his 
oflice,and rally around it with that decision of character and invin- 
cible firmness which, setting at defiance all temptation, looks stead- 
ily to the goal of success. Here, while contemplating the busy 
world, and closely observing the practical aff'airs of life, let him, 
in obedience to the wise precept, know thyself, often look in upon 
his own thoughts and feelings; inspired by the loveliness of vir- 
tue, he should so mould his affections and so regulate his princi- 



B. brake''s address, 87 

pies, that he may continually practise her precepts; and, with that 
frugality of time which is the great secret of success in life, let 
him go on, augmenting his stock of professional knowledge — ma- 
king frequent incursions into the departments of general litera- 
ture, whose spoils enrich the conqueror without injury to the con- 
quered — and, sooner or later, a day of sunshine and prosperity, of 
competency and distinction, shall beam in upon him, with an efful- 
gence proportioned to the gloom and desolation of the long and 
cheerless twilight by which it was preceded. 

Let us return, gentlemen, to a brief notice of some of the duties 
devolved upon us as members of this Society. To place it among 
the.valuable institutions of the country, its honors must be cher- 
ished with zeal, and its objects prosecuted with fidelity. Its libra- 
ry and cabinet should be enlarged, and its archives enriched by 
literary and scientific essays. Among these we shall delight to 
linger long after our present youthful enthusiasm is cooled by the 
^'dark brown years of age." 

A rich and but partially explored region is spread around us, in 
which much is still to be examined and described. We have yet 
scarcely seen the varied and magnificent works of the valley in 
which we live. Upon whom so appropriately devolves the duty of 
displaying its resources as upon the educated natives of the West? 
Let it no longer be our reproach, that the world is indebted to for- 
eign pens and foreign genius for ail that is known of this West- 
ern land. Objects desqjrving our immediate attention are numer- 
ous and elevated in character. 

Where can be found a higher theme for the pen of the philo- 
sophic historian,- than is presented by that peculiar race which 
once roamed in savage wildness over this vast continent, and, 
within the memory of many here present, built their wigwams and 
strung their bows on the spot where we are now assembled ? But 
he who would seize upon this theme must hasten to the task. The 
power of the "pale face" has driven the Indians from hill to hill, 
and from prairie to prairie; their council fires are almost extin- 
guished; their traditions are nearly forgotten; the last echo of 
their war song is but faintly heard along the receding frontier. — 
Like the white mist of the morning on their native hills, they are 
melting away, and long, it is feared, before the problem of their 
origin is solved, the record of their final extinction will have been 
made. 



88 . B. drake's address. 

The mounds and fortifications of the Mississippi valley, togeth- 
er with the bones, implements of war, and other relics entombed 
within them — still the unsettled theme of controversy — should be 
carefully studied and described. This, too, is a work which ad- 
mits of no delay. Civilization is already around Ihem, and, within 
the lapse of a few years, these extraordinary monumentsof a half 
civilized race, who, in distant days, kindled their fires over this vast 
region, will be totally destroyed. 

Geology, likewise, which displays the formation and wreck of 
worlds, laying bare the evidence of the changes in the physical 
condition of the earth, holds forth its allurements. This sublipae 
science carries us back to the night of chaos, when the elements 
were moulded into form and beauty,- when the first depositions of 
islands and continents were made; and the various strata of rocks 
were formed into shape and character. The geological phenom- 
ena of this valley have been but partially observed. The various 
kinds of rock, the diluvial and alluvial formations, the fossils, the 
marine remains of the limestone strata, the huge masses of granite 
which lie partly imbedded in the soil, the coal and slate deposites, 
are but part of the objecfs presented for examination by this new 
and interesting science. 

Our rivers abound with a great variety of fish and shells, which . 
merit description and preservation; whilst our hills are rich in nu- 
merous useful minerals, yet but imperfectly known. To display 
their resources would be adding to the general stock of scientific 
knowledge, and rendering an essential benefit to the community. 

The wild animals that traverse our hills and plains, are gradu- 
ally becoming extinct, or retreating to the more distant West, 
where they will soon be overtaken again by the destroying march 
of civilization, whether they remain on the arid sand plains that 
stretch beyond the Mississippi, or take refuge among the cliffs and 
dells of the towering Chippe wan. A more interesting memoir than 
one embracing this department of Zoology, could scarcely be ad- 
ded to the archives of the society. 

The vegetable kingdom, with its gorgeous and unwritten beau- 
ties, invites the botanist to wander with his pencil and port folio, 
over the valley and the hill; our giant forest trees, throwing their 
lofty branches to the clouds; and our flowers— the gems of the 
vegetable world— that shoot and shed their aroma in the shade 
beneath, have never yet been fully described by a native pen. 



B. drake's address. 89 

Nor does the catalogue end here: — The birds, whose plumage 
adorns, and whose notes make jocund our fields and woods; the 
stealthy serpents that glide in the grass beneath our feet; the fire- 
flies that illumine the dusky hue of twilight; the worm that spins 
its silken thread; the gaudy butterfly that sips the dew of the open- 
ing rose; the spider that weaves its gossamer tissue, with a de- 
gree of skill that baffles all human imitation; with countless other 
links in the wonderful chain of animated existence, are above, 
around, and beneath us, at once inviting our attention, command- 
ing our admiration. 

And is the field of our labors bounded by the physical sciences? 
Have we no subjects for the painter — the historian — the novelist 
—the bard? Is nature, in the West, too tame for the genius of 
poetry and painting? I 'might point you to the grand and rugged 
aspect of the Kenhawa, where it leaps from the mountains of Vir- 
ginia — ^^to the wild and picturesque falls of the Miami — to the beau- 
tiful and magnificent cascade of St, Anthony — to the placid Ohio, 
rolling its silver tide, foaming beneath its countless steamboats, 
from the Alleghanies to the Mississippi — to the chain of beautiful 
lakes that stretch along our northern boundary — to the vast savan- 
nas of the Illinois and the Arkansas — to the rich luxuriance of 
our forest foliage in spring, and its gorgeous hues in autumn — to 
the "trailing clouds of glory" that beautify our Italian skies — as 
presenting noble subjects for the pen and the pencil of genius. 

True it is, we have no splendid cathedral, where — 

*' o'er.ruin'd fanes the ivy wreathes," 

— no baronial castle, in whose desolate hall the fox makes his bed, 
and the moping owl builds her nest: we can boast of no classic 
associations — no crusades to the Holy Land — no national escutch- 
eon on which are engraved the triumphs of a thousand years. — 
Still, however, even the brief space of half a century has marked 
the young West by some events that may serve — 

"To point a moral, and adorn a tale." 

She has had her enterprizes of peril and privation, not only 
with the red men of the forest, but with Albion's veteran troops. 
Her busy hum of civilization, rife with activity and intelligence, 
has every where disturbed the silence of the wilderness. She has 



90 B. drake's address. 

built up cities, established schools and universities, constructed 
important public works, covered our rivers and lakes with canvas 
and with steam, and so far developed our physical resources as 
literally to render this vast valley the "land of promise." May not 
these achievements claim a passing notice ? 

And are there no distinctive features in our population ? Where 
are the peaceful French colonies of this region, who, amidst the 
influx of Anglo-Americans, have preserved their national charac- 
teristics? Do the manly and impulsive natives of the West pre- 
sent no peculiarities? Is there nothing worthy of being sketched 
in that ceaseless stream from the Northern hive, which bids fair 
to extend the "universal Yankee nation" even to the shores of the 
Pacific? Where, it may be asked, are the great of the Aborigines 
— Logan, Little Turtle, and Tecumseh? Where the Indian fight- 
er? — the squatter of the prairie? — thefur-trapper of the Missouri? 
Arethere.no more Mike Finks on our rivers? — no more Pete Feath- 
ertons in our woods? Are the Indian traditions all told, and the 
border legends all sung ? These are themes that would inspire an 
Irving or a Cooper: — may we not hope that our society enrols 
among its members those who are yet destined to touch them 
with a master's hand? 

There is one other subject, gentlemen, which, amidst your la- 
bors for personal distinction, or the advancement of the objects of 
this society, should neither be forgotten nor neglected. The lit- 
erary character of our valley is yet to be formed. Hitherto a few 
solitary individuals, scattered over this wide region, have pursued 
their intellectual labors without unity among themselves, or en- 
couragement from the public. May we not hope that a better state 
of things is approaching? Literary men are not only multiplying 
in the West, but beginning to act in concert. Institutions have 
been founded, and periodical journals established, that must stim- 
ulate to literary efibrt, and preserve and disseminate the fruits of 
literary labor. Those now entering upon the stage of action are 
destined to exert a powerful influence on the intellectual character 
of the West. Whether that influence shall be good or bad, will 
depend upon circumstances chiefly within our own control. If we 
think proper to render our literature feeble in style and puerile in 
sentiment — abounding in silly affectations and far-fetched conceits 
— let us continue to read and imitate only the lighter and more 



B. deake's address. 91 

superficial productions of other regions, which the steam press and 
the cravings of a morbid appetite are spreading abroad in the land. 
On the contrary, if we desire to have a literature imbued with that 
vigor and manliness which are the appropriate characteristics of 
Backwoodsmen — one that is pure, racy, and elevated — the path to 
be pursued is obvious. We must cultivate, diligently, an acquaint- 
ance with the ancient classics; we must linger around the "well 
undefiled" of English literature; and, above ail, realize that we 
are under no mental bondage, and that we owe no servile literary 
allegiance to any people. It is our duty to consult nature — to 
contemplate things as they are — and, coming to the task with a 
sagacious observation and chastened judgment, to speak and write 
as we feel and think. Instead of imparting tramontane senti- 
ments and opinions, without discrimination, to be moulded to the 
circumstances of this valley, our literature should be the result of 
the political, moral, and physical condition of things by which we 
are surrounded. 

If the position be true — and there seems no reason to question 
its accuracy — that external objects exert a strong and enduring 
influence on the feelings and intellect of man, what may we not 
anticipate in regard to the literary character of this valley, which 
has been so bountifully favored by the beneficent hand of Provi- 
dence? I leave the inquiry, gentlemen, to be answered by your- 
selves, in the confident hope that, as Western men, you will burn 
with the laudable ambition of cherishing and advancing the litera- 
ture of your native land, until, in beauty and opulence, it shall be 
in the intellectual, what our magnificent rivers, prairies, and lakes 
are in the physical world. 



ADDRESS, 

BY J. M. STAUGHTON, M. D. 

delivered on the sixth anxmlversary of the union literary soci- 
ety, september 27, 1831. 

Ladies and Gentlemen, 

We live in an eventful period of the world. The rapid man- 
ner in which knowledge is extending, has never had a parallel in 
the history of ages. It seems as if by one electric shock, whole 
nations are aroused from the apathy of ignorance; while by the 
touch of the celestial fluid, the holy fire of learning and of liberty 
bursts forth in a bright and glorious flame. 

While the moral world is dignified and cheered by the nume- 
rous inventions of .the benevolent, which tend to lighten the load 
of misery, incident to mortality, and to disseminate the principles 
of pure and undefiled religion, an equal spirit of enterprize is at 
work in the intellectual. New societies, new associations, new 
books have been produced, with the view to extend the progress 
of useful information. Those classes of society that were for- 
merly degraded and ignorant, have been stimulated to the acquisi- 
tion of knowledge, and they now display the utmost zeal in its 
prosecution. 

The immense masses of learning that were formerly hoarded 
up by a few fortunate individuals, have been of late years freely 
distributed. The aristocracy of knowledge is passing into the 
republican simplicity of general diffusion. This Agrarian law of 
the intellect has made very learned men out of fashion; while he 
is regarded as the benefactor of his race, who most successfully 
disseminates the greatest amount of useful knowledge. 



93 

The spirit of the age, like a mighty current, bears ua all onward! 
None but plain, practical, efficient men are able to ride its heaving 
billows. The nineteenth century is, indeed, an era of action! 

In v/hat manner, then, shall wc most successfully imbibe the 
spirit of the tim.cs? is a question of the utmost importance; and 
to you, young gentlemen of the Union Literary Society, who are 
preparing yourselves to come forward and mingle with the busy 
scenes of active life, it bears an interest of incalculable weight. 

You are to become the senators, the divines, the jurists and the 
physicians of our land. To you will be committed the interests of 
our mighty republic. Looking forward, therefore, to the high 
destinies that await you ; keeping before your eyes what your coun- 
try expects, and has a right to expect, from you, how diligently 
ought you to seek out the most successful mode of employing your 
time, and how assiduously should you devote every moment to 
improvement. 

Some years ago I was forcibly struck by a remark which fell 
from one of our most eloquent statesmen in Congress: that no man 
■was fitted for any ordinary purpose of life who w^as not fairly up 
with the present state of the world — if he were a day behind, he 
might as well be twenty years. The importance of this truth 
ought to be more extensively felt; it should be appreciated and 
acted on by those who conduct our schools and colleges; for, 
though much improvement has been effected in the ordinary 
routine of education, no unprejudiced man can hesitate to pronounce 
the course still defective. It is not adapted to the spirit of the 
times. I venture to assert, that too much attention, both in gram- 
mar schools and in colleges, is still devoted to the classics. I 
know that the system is much ameliorated — I know that the old 
race of pedagogues, who would flog a boy for a false quantity m.oro 
severely than for a moral delinquency, is nearly extinct. 

It was under one of these that I myself was first imbued with 
letters. His whole soul was bound up in the classics; he was a 
learned man, and yet utterly ignorant of every thing except Latin 
and Greek. Methinks I still see the venerable man, on his tall 
stool, his hoary locks streaming over his shouldersj measuring on 
his fingers the feet of verses -which the trembling urchins scan, 
drinking in the melody of the poem with the excited rapture of a 
lover of music, at the sound of Handel's notes. Peace to his shade 

13 



94 DR. STAUGHTO:^'s ADDRESS. 

— he is gonel Of him, as of the celebrated Dr. Busby, it may be 
said that he fairly died of bad Latin: the ungrammatical versions 
of his scholars broke his heart. 

I must clear myself, however, from the imputation of not pla- 
cing a proper estimate on classic erudition : I would have no young 
man pass through college without an acquaintance with the Latin 
and the Greek j but I would not have these cultivated at the ex- 
pense of other and more useful branches. Who has not met with 
young gentlemen, fresh from the honors of a college, inflated 
with classic erudition, yet who were unable to speak or write the 
English language with accuracy or propriety? Ought this to be? 
Is not a course of instruction that allows such incongruities radi- 
cally defective ? I have seen a gentleman, w ho graduated in one 
of our most distinguished colleges vv^ith great credit, stand, in stu- 
pid amazement, at beholding a ball supported by a jet of water 
from a fountain. Ought this to be? Should men be crowned with 
the richest collegiate honors v/ho are thus grossly ignorant of the 
simple elements of hydraulics? 

I am much gratified to learn that in this, the first and the great-, 
est institution in this mighty valley, the venerable President and 
his learned associates have given such a cast to the studies as ren- 
ders them calculated to prepare the pupil for the purposes of the 
world. The instruction given within those walls has uniformly 
a practical tendency, and will fit you for the active scenes of life. 
Young gentlemen, value your privileges; — I charge you improve 
them. 

It is to the study of the sciences, and particularly of the natural 
sciences, that I would in an especial manner call your attention. 

Far be it from me to disparage the utility of the pursuits of litC" 
rature; on the contrary, few, I believe, value more highly its in- 
trinsic worth and its pervading influence on society. It is that 
power which harmonizes the jarring strings of life. As the Ro- 
man poet sung — 

"Emollit morc'g, ncc sinct esse feros." 

While chiefly to the influence of Christianity must be ascribed 
the present lovely, moral, and social system, the power which the 
<;harms of literature has exercised over the rough and rugged na- 
ture of man, must not be forg^otlen. 



DR. STAUGHTOr^'s ADDRESS. 95 

Literature is the cool and refreshing grove, into which the 
traveller turns from the sunny and crowded walks of human af- 
fairs; and while he is invigorated by the umbrageous shelter, he is 
cheer^ and sustained by the delicious fruits which cluster in its 
luxuriant foliage. 

Cherish the pursuits of literature; for though the hurried busi- 
ness of life may, in after days, prevent your constant attention to 
the attractive study, you will feel, even across the ocean of disap- 
pointed hopes and unrequited labors, from this enchanting land — 

*' Gentle gales, 
Fanning their odoriferous wrings, dispense 
Native perfumes, anJ whisper whence they stole 
Those balmy sweets." 

In most of our colleges the sciences are only touched in the 
slightest manner; in some they are entirely neglected. In this 
institution, however, the talents of the professors, and the constant- 
ly increasing apparatus, afford you means of improvement, which 
you ought most assiduously to cultivate. 

I am aware that I might have selected a much more popular 
theme for this anniversary address, and perhaps, considering the: 
nature of the occasion, I ought to have done so; but a solemn 
sense of the importance of this neglected branch of education has 
prompted me to use my feeble endeavor to urge its study upon you. 

In all places the pursuits of science cannot fail to* promote the 
comfort and happiness of man; but it is in the United States that 
such researches will be attended with the greatest advantage. — 
Citizens of a country almost boundless in extent, stretching through 
every variety of climate — the land of hills and flood, of the forest 
and the prairie, abounding in the most magnificent of the Creator's 
labors — ought we aot most diligently to study out their nature. 
and relation? 

How many a useful mineral, think you, sleeps in the undisturbed 
quiet of our mountains? How many a healing balsam drops its 
perfume unheeded in the depths of our forests? How many a 
medicinal plant lies imbosomed in the primeval silence which 
reigns in the unexplored wilderness. 

Look at the beautiful temple of nature by which we are sur- 
rounded! Gaze from this elevated point on which we are thia 



96 DB. staughton's address, 

moment assembled! Does not the view cause that !ove of nature 
which warms each bosom to send its thrilling influence through 
every fibre? 

This love of nature is deeply rooted in our souls; this is the 
grand excitant to the study of natural science. It is not the pecu- 
liar privilege of the polished and refined; all hearts are sensible to 
its charms. 

**Ask the swain 
Who journeys homewards from a summer day's 
Long labor, why, forgetful of his toils, 
And due repose, he loiters to behold 
The sunshine beaming, as through amber clouds, 
O'er all the Western sky; full soon, I ween, 
His rude expression and untutor'd airs. 
Beyond the power of language, will unfold 
The form of beauty smiling at his heart." 

The important benefits which the sciences have conferred on 
our race are so palpable that they need no comment. What though 
we cannot, as did Archimedes, so arrange the mechanical powers 
as to form an engine capable of seizing a ship of war, and, whirl- 
ing it through the air, dash it to thousand fragments? — what 
though we cannot so combine mirrors and lenses as to burn up 
whole navies by the concentrated solar rays? — yet have the scien- 
ces raised us far beyond the boasted advancement of the ancients. 
In all the comforts of domestic life, in the infinitely varied manu- 
factures, and in the facilities of commerce and of travel, how infi- 
nitely superior. They had no printed books, no mariner's com- 
pass, nor optical instruments; what did they know of the explo- 
sive force of gunpowder, which has so effectually altered the face 
of modern wartlxre ? Did they ever dream that man could imprison 
the vapor of water, and compel it, as a slave, to do his bidding? — 
force it to spin, with flexible fingers, the finest thread? — or, with 
unconquered arm, — 

*'Drag the slow barge or urge the rapid car"'? 

Besides these advantages, the sciences have exerted a pro- 
digious sway over the moral destinies of the world. What, for in- 
stance, has the art of printing, as improved by scientific machin- 
ery, done for onr race? The liberties of the people are guarded 



DR. STAUGHTON''s ADDRESS. 97 

more effectually by the press thanjhey could be by thousands of 
armed men. The very dissemination of books and newspapers 
among a people is enough to make them free. 

It has often been said that Napoleon was vanquished by the 
steam engine, and truly too. But for the introduction of that most 
valuable present from science to the arts, England could never 
have found the pecuniary resources, nor have spared the men 
that made up the materiel of those immense armies, with which she 
so effectually opposed that mighty victor. The improvements in 
navigation, particularly in the navigation of our rivers by steam, 
and the adaptation of that wonder working power to land carria- 
ges has almost annihilated distance, brought remote cities into 
close connection; and, by rendering each more dependent on the 
other, serves to bind the jarring and discordant parts in bonds of 
interest. I look upon the rail roads and canals, which stretch 
across our various states, as so many immense cords, which will 
keep up our Union, that is now the joy, and pride, and the example 
of the world. 

The study of the sciences produces the most happy effects on 
the heart. The constant contemplation of the Creator's works, 
tends to fill the mind with sentiments of gratitude and humility. 
Association with the beautiful objects of creation, invigorates the 
affection, and infuses a glow of benevolence into the soul. A nat- 
uralist can scarcely be a vicious man. During the reign of ter- 
ror in France, when crowds were daily consigned to the guillo- 
tine by the sanguinary tribunal, a number of persons were brought 
into the garden of the palace of justice, to undergo the mock form 
of trial which preceded execution. Among them was a lover of 
botany, a man of simple and retired manners, yet on whom suspi- 
cion had fallen. While the judges were passing rapid sentence on 
his comrades, he stood admiring the beautiful flowers which were 
growing in the garden, and examining their structure. The 
judges, by acclamation, declared that the man who could, in such 
a critical moment, be fascinated by the charms of flowers, must be 
too simple lo plot against the interests of the republic. 

It is only within the last two centuries that these improvements 
have been made. To what cause shall we ascribe these mighty 
changes? One word will answer: it is a word that should be 
written in letters of gold — Induction. 



98 DR. staughton's address. 

But what is this magic v/ord that has so changed the face of 
society, which, in the words of one of the most accomplished 
scholars, "has caused a new philosophy to issue from the furnaces 
of the experimentalists, that has confounded all the reasonings of 
the ancients"? What means Induction? It is the application of 
common sense to the investigation of science. 

Francis Bacon, Lord Verulam, is a name dear to every lover of 
science. To his majestic intellect was revealed the idea, which 
none of his predecessors had ever discovered, that the only means 
of acquiring knowledge was to interrogate nature. 

Previous to his day, the ordinary mode of philosophic inquiry 
was, to commence by the formation of a theory, to which every 
fact, as it presented itself, was forced to bend: and when an expe- 
riment could not be reduced to adequate dimensions, by this Pro- 
crustean bed, it was rejected as false or worthless. The venerable 
father of modern philosophy, however, took another view. Hear 
him: — "Homo naturse minister et interpres, tantum facit et intel- 
ligit, quantum de naturae ordine, re vel mente observaverit, nee 
amplius scit aut potest — Man, the servant and interpreter of na- 
ture, understands and reduces to practice just so much as he has 
actually experienced of nature's laws; more he can neither know 
nor achieve." He swept away, at one stroke, the musty cobwebs 
of the ancients, brushed off their theories, and, with the motto — 
Hypothesis non Jingo, set himself to apply common sense to science. 

He was, decidedly, the first who pointed out that the true meth- 
od to study science is, to search after truth. He liberated the hu- 
man mind from the slavery of theories, and of names, and of 
schools. The mental independence which he achieved has laid 
the foundation for the glorious superstructure of science which is 
now erecting. And when the beautiful temple shall have been- 
completed in all its fair proportions, when the top stone shall be 
brought forth with rejoicings, then, and not till then, will the bene- 
fits which Lord Bacon has conferred on our race be duly appre- 
ciated. 

It was the opinion of one of the profoundest statesmen of our 
land, that, in all the affairs of government, a frequent recurrence 
to first principles was of indispensable importance. Of paramount 
importance is it that all those who are engaged in the pursuits of 
science, should frequently recur to those grand principles and 



DR. staughton's adddess. 99 

rules which are found in the Novum Organum of Lord Bacon. I 
would have no young man pass through college without a thorough 
understanding of those invaluable precepts; I would not have 
him to translate from the Latin, which is very strongly marked 
by the quaint and highly figurative language of the day; but I 
would have him read and diligently study such a compend as that 
which is to be found in the 10th and 18ih numbers of the Library 
of Useful Knowledge. These principles, which may justly be 
called the foundation of all true science, are scarcely known even 
by our most accomplished scholars. The London Society for the 
diffusion of useful knowledge, merit the thanks of the community 
for thus throwing open to common readers the valuable treasure 
of Ihe Novum Organum. 

I cannot pass by the labors of this society with the slight notice 
I have just given it. Its establishments and that of the sister 
institution, th.e London University, I look upon as one as the great- 
est triumphs over ignorance that has ever been achieved. Not- 
withstanding the attempts that have been so violently made to in- 
jure these institutions, and to brand their supporters with the stig- 
ma of infidelity, they have prospered; as the sun, rising in his 
majesty, dispels the foul shades of night, so has the onward march 
of these noble associations put to flight the calumnies of wicked 
men, and shed a steady and effulgent light, which has cheered the 
moral and intellectual world. 

As the country we inhabit abounds in natural objects which in- 
vite the investigation of the philosopher; as our forests are rich 
in shrubs and flowers of unknown properties, and of birds of love- 
ly plumage that are not known to the naturalist; as our streams 
are alive with fishes that have never been described; and as the 
earth hides mineral treasures of v/hich we are ignorant; so is the 
intellectual state of our country more highly favorable to scientific 
culture. We are, by our situation, placed far beyond the influ- 
ence of those sectional prejudices v/hich so often arrest the march 
of truth in other lands. 

Lord Bacon, in speaking of the causes which tend to prevent the 
knowledge and reception of facts, has pointed out a series of ob- 
stacles which he has denominated idols, false divinities, which we 
are apt to erect in our minds, and to which we pay that reverence 
which is due only to the holy and immaculate shrine of truths — 



100 DR. STAUGHT0^^'S ADDRESS, 

These idols do not, I b3lieve,receive that reverence here which has 
been paid them elsewhere. Our citizens, in all matters of govern- 
ment and of science, are free thinkers of the freest cast; and I am 
prepared to make good the assertion, that, with us, the truth 
bears a more powerful sway than among any other people. 

As the idols of this distinguished writer include most of the 
sources of prejudice and error, we will look at them for a moment, 
and then try for ever to dethrone them from their usurped domin- 
ion. These idols, or false notions of the mind, so deeply fix them- 
selves in it, that they not only shut up the avenues through which 
truth might enter, but even when it has entered, they present them- 
selves again and will hinder the advance of science, unless men, 
being aware of them beforehand, guard agajnst them with all pos- 
sible diligence. 

The first class of prejudices is called idola iribti^, or idols of the 
tribe, because they are common to the whole tribe or race of man- 
kind. They are, in fact, those general prejudices which arise from the 
infirmity of human nature itself. The most formidable of these 
is the influence of imagination; its efforts in perverting the truth 
are so very numerous, that 1 scarcely know what instance to se- 
lect. This idol, this false divinity, enabled Mesmer to perform 
his astonishing cures by animal magnetism; this endured the 
metalic tractors of Perkins with magic powers; this gave efficacy 
to the prayers of Prince Hohenloe; this enabled the long suffering 
captain Symmes to discover the theory of concentric globes. — 
This power it is that points the hazel twig to the earth over a hid- 
den spring of water; this sharpens the old lady^s ears at the sound 
of the death watch; this appoints the hour of midnight for the 
walks of ghosts and the revels of hobgoblins; this gave efScacy to 
the royal touch in scrofula; and this endues the seventh son of a 
seventh son with intuitive powers as a physician. This idol, in- 
deed, stands in the avenue of knowledge, and but too often presents 
an insurmountable barrier to the admission of truth. One of the 
most remarkable traits in the mind of Sir Isaac Newton was his 
freedom from its influence. Perhaps no human being had ever 
such a command over his imagination. By the application of a 
Bublime geometry to the motions of the heavenly bodies, he sud- 
denly arrived at such magnificent results, that we are lost in won- 
der as we peruse his Principia, that he gave not way to the full 



DR. STAUGHTON's ADDRESS. 101 

swing of his fancy. But no; his steady mind, fixed on the truth 
alone, could see no other object— 

*' All piercing sage! he sat not down and dreamed 
Romantic schemes, defended by the din 
Of specious words and tyranny of names, 
But, bidding his amazing mind attend, 
And with heroic patience, years on years, 
Deep searching, saw at last the system dawn, 
And shine of all his race on him alone." 

The other idols of this class are violent prepossessions, the rest- 
less activity of the human powers; the influence of the will and 
affections on the understanding; the fallacy and incompetence of 
the senses, and the inordinate love of generalization; all these ob- 
stacles must be vanquished, or we can never see the truth in its 
native purity. 

But Ihere is another class of idols, whose dominion, though less 
extensive, is by no means less imperious. These are the Idola 
Spccus, ''idols of the cave or den," the prejudices which stamp on 
each mind its own peculiar character. "In addition," says Lord 
Bacon, "to the general waywardness of human nature, every man 
has his own peculiar den or cavern, which breaks and corrupts the 
light of nature, either on account of his constitution or disposition 
of mind, his education and the society he keeps, his course of read- 
ing and other similar causes." In another part of his work, this 
illustrious author designates these idols by the figurative names of 
"each man's particular demon" and "familiar seducing spirit." I 
need not advert to the influence which these causes exert in bar- 
ring out truth from the mind. Each one must have felt the in- 
ward struggle for the truth, and have triumphed in the victory. 

Another class are the Idola Fori^ or "Idols of the market-place." 
These are prejudices arising from mere words in our usual inter- 
course. This is, indeed, one of the most troublesome of all. the 
idols; and, perhaps, on a careful survey of all the sciences, we 
can point out but two or three beyond the limits of mathematics, to 
the progress of which this slavery to words does not ofter serious 
obstacles. Among this favored few, Chemistry stands pre-emi- 
nent. To the genius of French philosophers, belongs the honor 
of having invented a nomenclature capable of indefinite extension, 

14 



102 DR. staughton's address. 

and of endless variety of modification. To the emancipating in- 
fluence of this triumphant effort of genius, must, in a great meas- 
ure, be ascribed the wonderful advancement that this branch of 
science has made during the present century. In Botany, too, 
though the nomenclature is made barbarous and radically defect- 
ive, it is uniform, and, in this single redeeming quality, has ren- 
dered the science certain, and insured a progressive enlargement 
of its boundaries. On the other hand, look at Physiology, where 
all terms and language are uncertain. Here is the fairy land of 
the Idola Fori; and although it may be high treason to utter it, the 
department of metaphysics is under its idolatrous influence. Thus, 
amongthose who are called philosophers, do these dangerous usurp- 
ers bear a sway, that, like the luxuriance of the Upas, reigns in 
uninterrupted solitude. 

But to what shall I liken the Idola Tkeairi—^^ the idols of the 
theatre" — the wild and visionary theories of philosophers? Shall 
I, with Lord Bacon, compare them to the gaudy and unsubstantial 
pageants which are paraded on the stage of the theatre; or to the 
song of the syren, which lures but to destroy; or to the fascinations 
of Calypso's grotto, fair and deceitful; or to the mirage of the 
Egyptian desert, which mocks the thirsty traveller with the illu- 
sion of cooling fountains and refreshing groves, while nothing is 
spread before him but interminably arid sands? No — these are 
all too weak. They are the sweeping pestilence of knowledge. — 
Like the Indian cholera, which has made such awful havoc with 
our species in its travels from the land of Magi, their baleful influ- 
ence saps the very vitals of truth, and, with a withering desola- 
tion, leave nothing in their track but death and destruction. 

Think not, however, that I am opposed to theory when theory 
is chastised by the rigid rules of philosoph}^ The theories of 
Sir Isaac Newton are splendid triumphs of the force of human in- 
tellects, and the atomic theory of John Dalton has not only explain- 
ed the phenomena of Chemistry, with unerring accuracy, but, with 
prophetic power, has pointed new combinations, that, but for its 
illumination, would never have been discovered. It has been said 
that to think is to theorize. So it is to them that think wildly; 
but to the philosopher, to think is not to theorize. Very few men 
are capable of theorizing, in its legitimate sense. 

"AH these idols," says Bacon, "are solemnly and forever to be 



DR. STAUGHTON's ADDRESS. 103* 

renounced, and the understanding must be thoroughly cleared of 
them; for the kingdom of man, which is founded in the sciences, 
cannot be otherwise entered than the kingdom of God — that is, in 
the condition of a little child.'' 

What sublime simplicity is there in this declaration! — what 
truth! Indeed, knowledge must be received in all humility. 

To the minds of youth are the sciences peculiarly adapted, and, 
indeed, it is a gross perversion, in ordinary education, to burthen 
the minds of children with the recollection of names instead of 
ideas. Let it not be said that their tender minds cannot endure the 
load of science. Experience has proved that they can. I once 
knew a little girl not over seven years of age, who was a good 
chemist, and who could unfold the intricacies of the theory 
of definite proportions with unerring accuracy. All children and 
youth love the sciences. Nature is their favorite study. Their 
minds are so free from the impressions of the hindrances we have 
mentioned, that the truth finds ready access. So great, indeed, is 
the love of truth in the human breast, says Lord Shaftesbury, that 
we are enchanted with the very shadow of it. 

When a man once brought his son to a celebrated ancient sage to 
learn philosophy, on asking his terms, he was informed that they 
would be twice as much as for any other scholar. Why so? Be- 
cause your son has been taught by another master, and, consequent- 
ly, I shall have to unlearn him what he has already learnt, before 
I can begin to teach him the truth. 

Young gentlemen, the circumstances under which you are 
placed are highly favorable to the acquisition of science. The 
United States is, of all lands, the most propitious to its rapid pro- 
gress, and of these, the Western are least trammeled by ordinary 
prejudices. In this well regulated institution, every facility is 
afforded you, and your own society is capable of being converted 
into a powerful engine of improvement. The interesting cabinet 
which you already possess, and which, I am gratified to observe, 
is gradually increasing, indicates a taste for natural science, which 
augurs well for your future progress. 

The devotion I feel in the subject must plead my excuse, if I 
have been too urgent in pressing it on your notice. Belonging to 
a profession that is intimately connected with the natural sciences, 
I early acquired for them an enthusiasm that I pray may never 



104 DR. Caldwell's discourse. 

leave me. They are my favorite study; and when, from the or- 
dinary pursuits. of my profession, I can, for a moment, turn aside 
to them, they are my joy and my consolation. 

I must again most earnestly press them on your close and unre- 
mitted attention. 



DISCOURSE, 

BY CHARLES CALDWELL, M. D. 

ON THE ADVANTAGES OF A NATIONAL UNIVERSITY,"^ ESPECIALLY IN ITS 
INFLUENCE ON THE UNION OF THE STATES ; DELIVERED, BY REQUEST, 
TO THE ERODELPHIAN SOCIETY OF MIAMI UNIVERSITY, ON THE SEV- 
ENTH ANNIVERSARY OF THAT INSTITUTION, SEPTEMBER 25tH, 1832, 

Gentlemen, Members of the Erodelphian Society, 

The general benefits of education, as the parent of litera- 
ture, science and the arts, and an auxiliary in morals and good 
government, have furnished, for ages, a standing theme of academ- 
ical discourses. Unwilling, therefore, to ask you to accompany 
me over afield, the full harvests of which have been gathered in 
by others, and where the gleanings might but ill reward our toil 
in collecting them, I shall offer no apology for declining to select 

* A few years ago, there appeared in the Western Monthly Review, 
tTO or three papers on the subject of a JNational University. It is 
quite probable that between those articles and this discourse there ex- 
ists a considerable similarity, as well in style and manner, as in senti- 
ment. If so, the reason is, that they are all the product of the same 
pen. Yet, to avoid, as far as possible, any striking resemblance be- 
tween them, the writer, while preparing the discourse, was careful 
never to look at the papers in the Review, nor e^en to think of them. 
It is deemed advisable to communicate this information to the reader, 
that he maj not suspect the author of plagiarism. The communica tion 
will further apprize him, that the views contained in the discourse hav$ 
pot been hastily formed. 



DR. Caldwell's discourse. 105 

the same topics, as the ground of the exercise I am about to en- 
gage in. Partly moreover from your daily studies, and in part 
from other incidental causes, it is scarcely probable that the sub- 
ject is less familiar to you than to myself Nor can it fail to pos- 
sess for you, in the spring-time of your lives, when your sensi- 
bilities are vivid, and your fancies creative, a freshness and a 
charm, which must have rendered it an object of the liveliest at- 
tention. This being the case, you are already so fully apprized 
of its extent and value, that no effort of mine could add to the in- 
terest you naturally feel in it, or strengthen the impression your 
minds have received from the habitual contemplation of it. 

History has already made known to you, that the different de- 
grees of education which the nations of antiquity possessed, were 
the measures of the rank and splendor they enjoyed. Even 
their opulence and power conformed invariably to the same stand- 
ard. You are not now to be informed that the astronomical and 
literary attainments of ancient Egypt, limited as they were, form.- 
ed the brightest symbol on the escutcheon of that celebrated coun- 
try, and will preserve her name from oblivion, and confer on her 
reputation, when, like the site of Troy, the "cit}^ of the gods," the 
spot where her pyramids stood shall be disputed, and the Nile 
alone will indicate to the traveller the domain of the Pharaohs. — 
That the imperishable glories of Greece were the product, not of 
•the sword or the truncheon, but of the pen and the chissel. And? 
that had not Rome cultivated letters, philosophy, and the arts, she 
would have continued, as she began, a nation of barbarians, and 
her renown in arms would be slumbering in endless oblivion, be- 
neath the ruins of the power that achieved it. With these things 
you are already familiar. It is also known to you, that when the 
fruits of education had perished, in the downfall of the Roman 
empire, and even the hope of their reproduction was nearly ex- 
tinguished, the world became, for centuries, as the result of that 
catastrophe, a waste of ignorance, licentiousness, and blood. That 
that period of desolation and dismay was called the "dark ages," 
not more from its want of knowledge, than from its destitution of 
virtue, and its pollution by crime. That the commencement of 
the return of happier times received the name of the "revival of 
letters," because it was the issue of mental cultivation. That the 
event was hailed as the day-spring of a renewed civilization of the 



106 ER. Caldwell's discourse. 

human race, and Iheir emancipation from the tyranny of brutal 
domination, where strength had trampled with impunity on weak- 
ness, and vice had triumphed over virtue and honor. That mo- 
dern nations rose in their moral and political standing, and impro- 
ved in their general condition, in proportion as they welcomed 
and encouraged education, and partook of its benefits. And that, 
at the present time, education is the acknowledged source of their 
prosperity, power, and glory, and, as such, is embraced and culti- 
vated by them, with an eagerness and energy corresponding to its 
importance. Even under the blighting shadow of despotism, where 
the mass of the people are merged in Ignorance and wedded to^ 
slavery, the higher orders eagerly avail themselves of that great 
fountain of knowledge and influence. 

These truths, I say, have been abundantly disclosed to you, in 
the course of your studies. And you have further learnt, that of 
all existing governments, that of our own country is most vitally 
dependent on the general diffusion of the fruits of sound educa- 
tion, for the continued purity of its principles, the stability of its 
general organization and subordinate, institutions, the success of 
its measures, the prosperity of the nation and the happiness of the 
people. That if intelligence and virtue, wisdom and patriotism, 
the fruits alone of mental culture, are valuable under other forms 
of government, they dive indispensahle under ours. And that, while 
by the possession and proper use of them, we may attain, as a peo- 
ple, an unparalleled degree of social felicity, and rise to the loftiest 
point of political greatness, we must sink, without them, through 
corruption and misrule, to the deepest abyss of degradation and 
misery. Such is the nature of our government, that we cannot 
hold a midway course. To one extreme or the other we as ne- 
cessarily tend, as the needle does to the pole, or the plummet to the 
centre. 

Such you already know to be the difference between the condi- 
tions of educated and uneducated nations. Nor have you now to 
learn, that between the standing and enjoyments of different 
classes and individuals of the same nation, a like difference is pro- 
duced, by different kinds and degrees of intellectual training. — 
Hence, the inference, alike true and momentous, which can neith- 
er be too earnestly inculcated on youth, nor too extensively pro- 
mulgated to the world, that to education, in the true meaning of 



DR. Caldwell's discottrse. 107 

the term, is man indebted for all he possesses calculated to sweet- 
en, dignify, and embellish life, and render it an object of desire to 
a being endowed with intelligence and Lastc. In an uncultivated 
condition, man is the most abundant source of evil and misery to 
his fellow-man, as well as to himself. These considerations en- 
force, as a paramount duty, on pupils, diligence and ardor in the 
prosecution of their studies; on teachers, zeal and faithfulness in 
the high trust committed to them, and on all, the encouragement 
and promotion of the great work of instruction; that work, which 
is to direct the movements and settle the destinies, not alone of our 
own country, but of the human family; and not alone of the pre- 
sent inhabitants of the globe, but of all future generations. But, 
waiving any further reference to the general influence of educa- 
tion, I shall offer to you a few remarks on some of its more parti- 
cular bearings. 

It has long been inculcated, as a political maxim, that, in every 
country, the education of youth should conform to the character 
of the existing government. In the enforcement of this, the na- 
tions of antiquity, especially t-he Romans, Greeks, and Persians, 
were inflexible. A deviation from the custom, if stubbornly per- 
sisted in, would have subjected the offender to banishment or death. 
Nor are modern nations indifferent to the policy, although they do 
not enforce it by so severe a penalty. The object of it is, to culti- 
vate in the minds of the people a spirit of loyalty, and a sentiment 
of patriotic attachment to their political institutions. These 
feelings, united to a well regulated pride of country, may be made 
to minister, in a high degree, to the strength of a nation, and the 
welfare of its inhabitants. Is the form of government monarchi- 
cal? According to the views I am considering, principles and 
opinions favorable to that form should be inculcated in seats of 
learning of every grade, but especially in those erected for chil- 
dren. First impressions on this subject are not easily eradicated. 
On the contrary, if they are judiciously and forcibly made, they 
become a portion of the individual, and are as lasting as life. It 
is all important, therefore, that they be correct. Is the govern- 
ment aristocratical, democratical, or mixed? Policy requires 
that the same rule be observed in the business of instruction. — 
From their earliest years, pupils should be accustomed to such 
views, and imbued with such sentiments, as may render them 
friendly to the institutions which protect them. 



108 

As relates to this subject, it is v/orthy of serious inquiry, what 
course may be most advantageously pursued in our own country? 
Our government is peculiar; in several important particulars, ma- 
terially different from all others. It is, in a special manner, 
much more Tpu.re\y federative than any other that has been hereto- 
fore framed. And this not only ranks with the strongest features; 
as a fundamental principle, it is second only to one other. Next 
to the Freedom and Independence of the States, their Union, on 
FEDERATIVE GROUND, is the most vital provision of the government, 
and should be held the most inviolable. It is that which our pu- 
rest patriots and wisest statesmen have most highly prized, and 
the possible subversion of which they have contemplated with the 
deepest solicitude. The reason is obvious. Every consideration 
bearing on the subject, proclaims it the most essential to our secu- 
rity, peace, and power, as a nation, and to our welfare, as a people. 
And now, that there hangs over it a storm-cloud of portentous 
aspect, ready to discharge on it its accumulated thunders, it has 
become the duty, not only of every reasonable and virtuous Amer- 
ican, but of every one not maddened by passion, or hardened by 
crime, to inquire anxiously how the impending desolation may be 
averted. Be it our business, then, on the present occasion, to en- 
deavor to answer the question — "Can any scheme of education be 
projected calculated to strengthen the Union of the States?" — 
My reply is affirmative; and I give it confidently. That such a 
scheme can be devised, it is impossible for me to doubt; nor am I 
without hope that it may also be executed. The nation possesses 
ample power as well as the necessary means for carrying into ef- 
fect the measures contemplated. I trust, therefore, that it will 
not be wanting in the disposition to use them, as all that is most 
important to it, both now and in future, may depend on the issue. 
For, should disunion take place, it will not be an evil of inconsider- 
able magnitude, or brief duration. The breach will be as wide as 
pole from pole, and as lasting as the elements of the human mind, 
unless it should give place io a forced consolidation, under a milita- 
ry despotism. Edifices overthrown, cities laid in ashes, fortresses 
erased, and navies destroyed, may all be rebuilt, and appear again 
in renovated freshness and beauty; and fields, wasted by the hand 
of the spoiler, may be restored by industry and the bounties of 
nature. But, once demolish the fair fabric of the federal govern- 



DR. Caldwell's discourse. 100 

ment, and no earthly power can reconstruct it. The mutual repuls- 
iveness of its parts will render their disseverance eternal; and 
its mighty fragments, spread over the surface of a dilapidated em- 
pire, while they constitute the most mournful and magnificent 
ruin that time has witnessed, will present an everlasting monu- 
ment of the madness of those Vvhose hands disunited them. 

Were the question proposed to me — "In what are the citizens 
of the United States, as a people, most dangerously deficient?" — 
I would answer decisively — in a spirit of nationality, in that ex- 
panded and practical loyalty and devotedness which identify man- 
kind with their native land. That Americans love their country, 
I do not deny. But they love it only in subdivisions. Their pa- 
triotism, as individuals, does not cordially embrace the whole of it. 
From living under State governments, and feeling their influence 
first and most immediately, especially in personal and social inter- 
ests, they are rendered so sectional in their sentiments and sympa- 
thies, as to be much more of state than national patriots. I regret 
to add, that, in some sections of the country, strong and illiberal 
antipathies are fostered against others. This unfortunate defect 
of national patriotism was strikingly exemplified in several occur- 
rences during the late war with Great Britain. Did the enemy 
invade any one of the States? The inhabitants of it, indignant at 
the insult, and deeming his footsteps a blot in their heraldry, and 
a dishonor to their soil, were ready to rise in mass to repel or de- 
stroy him. But the citizens of one State felt much less solicitude 
to expel the foe from the territory of another, more especially a 
remote one. When the West and the North were the seat of war, 
the East and the South seemed scarcely sensible that the enemy 
was in their country. And the same was true of the other sec- 
tions of the Union, when the conflict was at a distance. Many 
other alarming examples of a want of national patriotism might 
be easily cited. In the present condition of the Eepublic it is 
scarcely possible for the case to' be otherwise. Sectional and self- 
ish feelings and attachments are the natural growth of sectional 
divisions and governments. The States are not sufiiciently sensi- 
ble of their dependence on each other for the prosperity they 
enjoy. They do not seem to know (or knowing, they forget,) that 
they resemble a pyramid formed of columns, where each one con- 
tributes to the strength of the structure, and where the removal 

15 



110 dr.-caldwell'^s discourse. 

of one endangers the fall of those that remain. In their pride and 
self-confidence, they do not bear in mind that each one of them is 
necessary to the protection and welfare of every other, and that 
ihe nation, which is the political offspring of their union, gives 
protection to the whole. Nor is it easy, in a period of peace and 
safety, to teach them this important truth. They would learn it 
much more readily under the pressure of adversity, especially 
under that of a foreign war, (could such a one arise) which 
would be dangerous to their Independence. The late war, already 
referred to, was not of that description. No power of the enemy, 
either in the field or on the ocean, nor any he was able to bring to 
the contest, could have endangered, in the slightest degree, the 
freedom of the States. 

That my subsequent remarks on the influence of the scheme of 
education I purpose to recommend, may be the more easily under- 
stood, and the more correctly appreciated, it is requisite that I 
premise a few further propositions. In the system of our federal 
government, as in every other system where action is maintained, 
there are two powers in constant operation. And they are neces- 
sarily antagonists. In the present case, they are the centripetal and 
the centrifugal; and, although in direct opposition to each other, 
they, are alike indispensable to the existence and perfection of the 
machinery they keep in motion. But a fair equilibrium between 
them must be maintained. Destroy, or too far enfeeble either, 
and the other, taking the ascendency, and acting without control, 
will produce confusion, if not ruin. The solar system furnishes 
the best illustration of this. Its principles and movements consti- 
tute the most perfect, exemplar on the subject. The centripetal 
power there is lodged in the sun, and holds the planets and their 
satellites to that body, while the centrifugal attaches to the plan- 
ets, and tends to throw them from him. Let the former prevail, 
and all the subordinate membersofthe system will tumble head- 
long into the central orb. This would be consolidation. Let the 
latter predominate, and, in the words of the poet, the same mem- 
bers will "fly lawless through the void," to the annoyance, if not 
the overthrow, of other systems. This would be anarchy. 

To apply my illustration: 

In the federal system, the national government represents the 
sun, and the States and Territories the planets that revolve around 



DR. Caldwell's discourse. Hi 

him. The federal Constitution is the centripetal power, intended 
to retain the States in their orbits; and, through the medium of 
their own constitutions, and the sentiments in favor of their sov- 
ereignty and rights possessed and warmly cherished by their cit- 
izens, the States have the centrifugal power in themselves. — 
While these two forces balance each other, the movements they 
maintain and control will be regular, the harmony of the system 
will continue, the union will be stable, and the country prosperous. 
In strict obedience to constitutional law, the States will perform 
their duties to their own citizens, to each other, and to the whole 
Republic; and the national government will commit no usurpation 
of State privileges. Free from the danger of disturbing influen- 
ces, the great federative machine of State, complete and in good 
condition in all its parts, will move magnificently onv/ard, midway 
between the calm of consolidation and the convulsions of disunion. 
And it will present in its course an unrivalled spectacle of moral 
grandeur and national glory. Some view of the opposite state of 
things, proceeding from conflicting causes, will be given hereafter. 
Here a question of infinite moment presents itself to our con- 
sideration — "Which of the two powers of the federal system, the 
centripetal or the centrifugal, gives the fairest promise to gain 
strength with years, and ultimately predominate?" To this an 
answer may be easily given. I regret to add, that events have 
occurred to answer it already, in a way that portends calamity 
to our country. The federal constitution, as heretofore mention- 
ed, forms the centripetal power; and every thing that bears on the 
subject, shows that it derives no additional strength from time. — 
It has not yet received, nor, from present appearances, does it 
seem likely to receive from the people or the States, that sentiment 
of veneration and regard, to which it is entitled, both on account 
of the wisdom which marks it, and the pure and august source 
from which it emanated. On the contrary, there is too much 
reason to believe, that, as it increases in age it decreases in strength; 
that many politicians are much more anxious to find blemishes 
than excellencies in it; or, if they cannot find them, to imagine 
them, or make them by false constructions; that it has, therefore, 
become an instrument of much less authority with the States and 
the citizens than it was in former years; and thatthere is a grow- 
ing disposition in the country to weaken it still further, if not to 



112 DH. Caldwell's DISCOURSE. 

treat it with entire disregard. In fine, instead of being venerated, 
as it once was, as the record of a voluntary and solemn compact be- 
tween the States, reminding them of their early • alliance and 
plighted faith, admonishing them of their highest interests, and 
binding them on principles of justice to their duties to each other, 
and to the nation, it is looked on, by too many, with jealousy and 
dislike, as if it were a system of fetters, framed without autJiorityf 
and arhitrarily fastened on the members of the Union, to clog their 
movements and deprive them of full scope and freedom of action. 

Such, I say, is the case with the centripetal power of the fede- 
ral system. In strength and influence, it is palpably on the de- 
cline. But the condition of the centrifugal power is widely differ- 
ent. That its strength is increasing with an alarming rapidity, 
cannot be denied, and ought not to be concealed. The danger it 
portends should be boldly confronted, and unyieldingly counter- 
acted, by every means that can be brought into the contest. Al- 
though the constitutions of the States, in which the centrifugal 
power is partly lodged, remain unchanged, it is far otherwise with 
the spirit of state sovereignty, and the opinion of state rights 
among the people. Within the last ten years, or»even a shorter 
period, they have been more than quadrupled in strength. As re- 
lates to the subject of them, sentiments are now openly avowed, 
not only in the current discourse of certain political circles, but in 
public meetings and the capitol of the nation, which, twenty years 
ago, would have been reprobated as seditious, if not punished as 
treasonable. Persons uttering them would not only have forfeit- 
ed public confidence; they would have lost their standing in social 
life, and been stigmatized as disturbers of good order, corrupters 
of the community, and enemies of the country. Those who were 
once treated as conspirators against the Union, under a celebrated 
character still living, never, in their most secret communications, 
used language half so threatening, nor a fift'ieth part as baleful in 
its effects, as certain honorable legislators, and other men of dis- 
tinction do now, in the face of ihe nation. But words are only the 
heralds of deeds. In such cases, the usual course of human con- 
duct is, to speah first — in the commencement perhaps cautiously 
and in whispers, then more boldly and audibly — and ultimately to 
act. Men rarely plunge at once into consummate guilt. Cataline 
had been a deep gambler, a practised seducer, and a contemner of 



DR. Caldwell's DISCOURSE. 113 

the gods, before he became the chief of traitors. And Arnold had 
projected various other fraudulent schemes to possess himself of 
wealth, before he attempted to sell his country. Thus, the medi- 
tated crime being gradually approached, and rendered familiar by 
conversation and reflection, its commission follows as a matter of 
course. So true is it, that — 

"Vice is a monster of such frightful meia^, 
As to be hated, needs but to be seen; 
But, seen too oft, familiar with her face, 
We first endure, then pity, then embrace." 

Such will be the issue of the audacious and unprincipled conduct 
of some of those who speak so lightly of the federal constitution, 
and so boldly of severing the Union. They will pass from words 
to acts, and attempt treason. So dangerous are deviations from 
virtue, even in thought! 

But the circumstance which, beyond all others, will strengthen 
the centrifugal tendency of the States, and thus derange the bal- 
ance of the system, is their growth in population, wealth, and pow- 
er. In plainer terms, their increase in magnitude and weight, as 
political bodies. That this will add to their disposition to recede 
from their federal centre, is as certain as that the momentum of a 
large moving body is greater than that of a small one, when the 
velocity of each is the same. Were the planets which belong to 
the solar system daily increasing in size and weight, without a 
corresponding increase in the sun, they would ultimately escape 
from his control, and fly from their orbits into the wilds of space. 
And such, it is to be apprehended, will be the late of the States of 
the Union, unless the centripetal power be strengthened. But no 
modification of the constitution of the United States to that effect 
can be made, without the calling of a general convention. And 
even then,^under the influence of the popular views and feelings, 
which now pervade the country, there is reason to believe that 
that instrument would be made weaker rather than stronger. — 
By far the most effectual way, then, if not the only way, to attain 
the desired end, is to enlighten and nationalize the people — to aug- 
ment their intelligence and virtue, and infuse into them a fuller 
measure of i\iQ federal spirit, to the exclusion of a portion of that 
which attaches them inordinately to the States, and to what are erro- 
neously considered their rights. 



114 DR, CALDWELL'S DISCOURSE. 

Am I asked how this purpose is to be effected? I answer, chiefs 
ly in two modes. The general diffusion of sound education, in 
whatever way it might be done, would greatly contribute to it. — 
By enlightening the minds of the multitude, and enlarging their 
views, it would fit them the better to embrace and comprehend 
federal measures, and set a proper estimate on national concerns. 
They would then be convinced, by the exercise of their intellects, 
that both their interest and their duty bind them to the Union; and 
the moral influence of suitable training would complete the work. 
But such training would be indispensable. All experience testi- 
fies that it is not wise in us to trust our conduct, in matters of in- 
tense excitement, to the government of reason alone. We are 
too much swayed by feeling to be secure under such direction. — 
All our faculties, then, moral and social, as well as intellectual, 
should be so disciplined, as to harmonize with each other, and be 
rendered subservient to the same end. Then would intelligence 
and virtue become the sponsors and foster parents of nationality, 
and do their part in counterbalancing the growing centrifugal ten- 
dency of the States. 

Another measure calculated to promote the same object is, to 
accustom the people, as much as possible, to contemplate national 
objects, and weigh national interests; to approach them familiarly, 
make them topics of family and fireside consideration and dis- 
course, experience constantly more or less of their influence, and 
thus become identified with them in their feelings. To effect this, 
every thing that will admit of it ought to be federalized — institu- 
ted, I mean, on federative principles, and arranged on a federate 
plan. Like the general government, it should embrace the States, 
and have a national centre. Thus we have a national Judiciary, 
Treasury, and Postoflice establishment, whose influence in strength* 
ening the Union might be made immense. A national Bank and 
Mint, more especially the former, contribute not a little to the 
same end, by interweaving and identifying remote interests, sup- 
plying the people with a national and uniform currency, and fa- 
cilitating, beyond any other means, the intercourse of the States 
with each other, through the channels of commerce and trade. — 
I doubt whether this effect of a national Bank has ever been con- 
sidered and appreciated as it deserves. To me it appears import- 
ant. Yet I do not know that it was even alluded to in the debates 



DR. Caldwell's discourse. 116 

of Congress respecting that institution. Did time and the occa- 
sion permit me to dwell on the subject, the nationalizing influence 
of the United States Bank might be clearly demonstrated. Nor 
am I sure that a national debt, to a reasonable amount, is a nation- 
al evil. On the contrary, I verily believe that it has been to us 
a national blessing, and would so continue under suitable manage- 
ment. A general scheme of national roads and canals, especially 
rail-roads, by facilitating travelling and other modes of intercourse, 
and thus virtually contracting the boundaries of the empire, would 
minister incalculably to the strength of the Union. A few millions 
of dollars appropriated annually in this way, for a short term oi 
years, would tend to save us from disunion, anarchy, and blood, 
and might avert from us the necessity of expending hereafter ten- 
fold as much in destructive wars. Nor should the scheme to pro- 
duce nationality terminate here. Let the professions of Theology 
and Medicine be also nationalized. Let them, I mean, be so or- 
ganized, and their members so formed into societies, as to have 
currents of influence setting from each of the States, and from 
different sections of the same Stata, to be concentrated in a great 
federal reservoir; and let the issues from that reservoir be diff'u- 
sed, in return, throughout the Union. And let Temperance, 
Peace, Colonization, Bible and Tract societies, and other institu- 
tions founded for moral and benevolent purposes, be similarly or- 
ganized and administered. Let them also have each a national 
centre, and become nurseries of federal feeling throughout the 
States. Add to these a society, nationalized in the same way, 
whose sole object shall be the preservation of the Union; and 
the joint influence and benefits of the whole may be made incalcu- 
lable — I trust irresistible. By communicating to the people prop- 
er views, and cultivating and maturing in them correct feelings, 
vi^ith regard to the rights, powers, and beneficial effects of the 
general government, they will operate with a force altogether un- 
known to mere statute laws. 

As time does not permit me to detail these schemes, and exhibit 
them in all their elements and bearings, I must be content with the 
brief reference to them already made, and shall only add, that no 
difficulty need attend the establishment or administration of them. 
Should the experiment ever be fairly made, our country will have 
reason to rejoice in the issue. 



116 

Buf, above all, let there be established a national scheme of ear- 
ly education. If wisely planned and organized, and ably conduct- 
ed, that will become paramount, in its influence, to all the others. 
It maybe rendered in time so powerful an engine in reviving the 
faded nationality of the people, as to save the Republic from the 
dangers which threaten it. 

Youth is the period for the formation of habits. The entire 
being of man is then flexible, and may be moulded at pleasure. 

v'Tis education forms the common mind; 
Just as the twig is bent the tree's inclinM." 

"Train up a child in the way he should go, and when he is old he 
will not depart from it." Let the education of youth, then, be 
sufficiently federalized, and the Union is secure. The discontent 
of baflled ambition, backed by a spirit of faction and conspiracy, 
may occasionally assail it; but its discomfiture will be as that of 
the billows, which break against the cliff*, and fall in defeated frag- 
ments at its base. Let each American youth feel that he is educa- 
ted for the Republic, and undej its parental wing, and his being 
will become national. He will have incorporated with his nature 
the attachm.ent of an ancient Persian to his country, and the firm- 
ness of a Roman in defending it. And that attachment will be 
strictly federal. He will not love any portion of his country less 
than he does under the present plans of education; but he will 
love his luhole country much more. 

The outline of a federalized scheme of education may be briefly 
sketched. It should embrace one university in each State, with as 
many colleges, academies, high-schools, and other subordinate seats 
of instruction, as may conform to the number, wants and resources of 
the people. Add a National University, as a federal centre, to 
which, in magnitude and means, the other universities and colleges 
shall stand related somewhat as the state governments do the na- 
tional, and the arrangement will be complete. Throughout this 
great confederation of schools, by far the most magnificent and 
powerfulever erected, whose accumulated light may be made to 
reach, in time, the remotest confines of civilization, and penetrate 
even the abodes of barbarism — in all these institutions, I say, let 
such uniformity of instruction and discipline prevail, that the lower 
may be suitable nurseries to the higher — schools, technically so 



BK. •CALDWIILL^'S DISCOUJJSB. HJ 

^tallcd^ to :x?.deiiilcs, academies to colleges, colleges to universities, 
iund State universities to the National cne, so that a family resem- 
blance mny maik, and a kindred spirit actuate the whole. In eack 
one of this great nation of schools, let the inestimable value of the 
federal union, and the paramount duty of preserving it, be thoroughly 
inculcated by text-books and lectures — on the minds of children in- 
•crpablc of comprehending the reason of it, as a matter of faith, and 
en those cf pupils more mature, as a political trutli, founded in the 
philosophy cf human nature, and amply sustained by history and ex- 
perience. Let a tjouiss like this be steadily pursued, and I repeat, 
^hat the union cf the States, cemented originally by the blood of our 
fathers, and further confirmed by the sentiments of our posterity, will 
he indissoluble. So hopeless will be any attempt at disunion, that it 
will turn to quixotism; and fiction and intrigue will ultimately cease 
to dream of the project. But, as has been already done, with regard 
-(o several other topics, which have been only referred to, I must again 
-plead a want of time to analyze fully a federative scheme of education, 
and discuss it in all its points and relations. I shall therefore confine 
such further remarks, as I may have to offer, to a single but leading 
rfeature of it, a National University. 

In commendation of such an institution, we have as high authority 
GS the world can furnish, in favor of any untried experiment. Wash- 
ington, th-e father of his country, and one of the most unerring judges 
of men and human affairs, earnestly urged its establishment on the le- 
gislature of the nation, Ada,ms the elder, and Jefferson, two of the 
most distinguished statesmen and sages that time has produced, did 
ilic srone. So did Madison, who, in depth cf research, and solidity of 
judgment is inferior to none of his predecessors in the Presidency. 
So did Monroe, than whom a purer minded statesman, or a more hon- 
•orable man, never graced the annals of patriotism. And so did Adams 
•the younger, who, for brilliancy of genius, philosophical acuteness, and 
►varicly and extent of attainment, has no superior among his eotempo- 
raries. Why the present chief magistrate has declined to recommend 
the establishment cf a National University, it does not fall within my 
,province to inquire. I shall not, liowever, disguise my regret for his 
failure,- the more especiall3^,as the present would be a most opportune 
period for the enterprise, tlie treas\^ry being full, the revenue sbun- 
.dant, and the national debt nearly extinguished. Nor do I hesitate 
lo add^ that the estabhshmcnt cf the institution would be infinitely 

10 



118 DR. Caldwell's discourse. 

more useful to the nation, and would therefore, m an equal degree, 
confer more renown on the chief magistrate, than the extinction of the 
debt. 

But, in favor of the erection of a National University, there may be 
adduced other and weightier reasons, than the mere opinions of illus- 
trious men. The institution would raise, to an unprecedented height 
in our country, the tone of education, the standard of literature and 
science, and the rank and influence of their successive cultivators. 
Thus would it not only prove to the nation a source of additional power 
and splendor at home ; it would increase, in an equal degree, its foreign 
renown, and consequently its weight in international concerns. Am 
I asked in what way it jwould produce effects so extensive and benefi- 
cial? I answer, through sundry channels, a few of which shall be 
briefly considered. 

In grandeur, and all other imposing and useful qualities, the Uni- 
versity would correspond with the resources of the nation, and the 
high character of the people for intellect and energy. The buildings 
would be spacious, splendid, and commodious; the libraries extensive 
and judiciously selected, and the suits of apparatus complete — well 
fitted for the purposes of science, and prepared in the highest and 
costliest style. To these fundamental requisites, all the other provi- 
sions of the institution would conform. The funds would be ample, 
the professorships sufficiently numerous to embrace every requisite 
point of knowledge, whether practical or ornamental, and filled by the 
ablest and best qualified teachers; in the arrangement for exercise, 
amusement, and manly accomplishments, convenience and elegance 
would be skilfully united, and the whole would be organized on the 
most approved plan and principles of instruction. It would be an in- 
stitution of modern times, suited to a liberal and enlightened period, 
not a servile copy of originals that have descended to us from ages of 
ignorance and superstition. The site would be some convenient spot 
in the District of Columbia, open to the eye of the nation and the 
world, and subject to the exciting and elevating influences of proximi- 
ty to the scat of the most august government that man has established. 
In fine; the institution, when complete, would be a great national 
monument of elegance and sublimity for taste to admire, and of use- 
fulness for judgment to approve and imitate. 

Thus provided with all that literature and science require for their 
advancement, and suitably administered byTacultics worthy of it, the 



119 

institution woukl operate powerfully and beneficially in a threefold 
way; on otlicr scats of learning — on its own pupils — and on the coun- 
try at large. I shall offer a few remarks, by way of illustration, under 
each of these heads. 

Inspired by the example of the central university, and resolved 
on being as slightly eclipsed by it as possible, and of rendering iliem- 
selves, if not successful competitors of it, at least worthy collaborators 
in the same great ciusc, State universities and colleges would imitate 
it in their provisions, and exertions to excel. They would, in a par- 
ticular manner, add to their libraries and suits of apparatus, increase 
the number of their professorships, select teachers of higher qualifica- 
tions to fill them, so modify some of their usages, as to fit them better 
to modern times, and thus amend their style of instruction. The ex- 
amples of the higher state institutions would be followed by the lower 
ones, and an ambition to improve would every where prevail, until the^ 
general condition of education would be greatly enhanced, and ulti- 
mately perfected. 

This picture is no creation of the fancy. In neither the drawing nor 
the coloring of it has the imagination been concerned. Reason and 
experience have alone been consulted in the work. It is a repre- 
sentation founded in. nature, and conformable to two of the strongest 
and most active faculties of the human mind — the propensities to imi- 
tate and to rival. Man is essentially an imitative being; and the uni- 
form direction of imitation is upiDard. The high never follow the ex- 
ample of the low; the rich and powerful of the feeble and destitute. 
The reverse is the practice of the whole human family. I repeat, 
therefore, that such will be the case witli the literary institutions of 
our country. The lower will, as far as possible, adopt the arrange- 
ments and rules, and aspire to the amended teaching of the higher, 
until the whole shall become instinct with the lofty spirit of the Na- 
tional University, and shall vie with it in practice. Thus will the lat- 
ter seat of learning be not only a great centre-light, to diffuse its 
radiance directhj throughout the Union, but a source oi power to pro- 
mote knowledge indirectly^ by exciting other institutions to laudable 
competition. Like the sun in the planets, whose destiny he controls, 
it will give light, and animation, and productiveness to the entire fed- 
erative system of schools. 

It has been alleged that the National University will also operate 
powerfully, and to great advantage on its own pupils. Nor is it con- 



120 DR. CALDXtELL'S DICCOrRSE" 

ceivable how the case can be otherwise. It is a hw of natiiTo, that ail 
things produce in their own likeness. Great things are the pircnt^ 
of great things, and small things of smali. And this law prevails as 
certainly in the moraland intellectual world, as in the physical and or- 
ganic. The human inteilcct then is no loss subject to it than the hu- 
man body. WarS; revolutions in nations, and other momentous occa- 
sions develope minds calculated to act a suitable part in them. Histo- 
ry abounds in ficts confirmatory of this. The revelulion in England 
produced a Cromwell, o^ir own re volution, a Washington, the French 
a Napoleon, and the South American a Bolivar. Great deliberative- 
assemblies are the nurseries of great orators and debaters; and Greece 
and Rome were indebted for their illustrious men. to the grand events 
in the midst of which they grew. 

Such will be the issue of the National University. Great in all its 
attributes, it will produce, on that ground alone, corresponding effects 
in the formation of scholars. Tlie intellects of those educated in it, 
will receive the highest degree of development and polish, of which 
they are siisceptible. Most of its pupils moreover, especially that por- 
tion of them that shall come from remote parts of the country, will be 
youth of lofty promise — the elite, of the nation. Few of any other des- 
cription will resort to it from a distance. They will be peculiarly sus- 
ceptible, therefore, of high excitement and honorable effort, in relation 
to their scholarship and intellectual standing. Nor is it easy to ima- 
gine a combination of circumstances, better fitted to produce such ef- 
fects, than that under the influence of which they v/ill be placed. In 
whatever is substantial and useful, as well as in Vvhat is calculated to 
excite admiration and produce effect, the institution itself, as already 
mentioned, will be gi'and and impressive. The very fact, therefore, 
of being a pupil of it, and a candidate for its honors, and of having nc- 
cess to all its sources of improvement, will be an incentive to ambi- 
tious aims and strenuous efforts, in every mind of an elevated order. 
Nor will the proximity to the seat of the national government, the arena 
of great intellectual struggle and achievement, and the theatre of vast 
and imposing events, fail to contribute to the same end. No youth of 
a common spirit, much less of an aspiring one, can remain unambitious 
and inactive, in such a situation. Nothing can prevent him from re- 
solving and endeavoring to prepare himself to act, at a future period, 
a distinguished part in the councils of his country — to, become a repre- 
sentative, a senator, a minister abroad, one of the heads of department 
at home, a judge of the supreme court, or cliief magistiatc of the nation. 



Bit. CALr> WALL'S r;T5C'0UP..=^'T:. 12 1 

Aiiolhcf circumstance which will opviiale on tlic youtli of tlic Uni- 
versity, as a powerful incentive to attain distinction, will be, that their 
studies will be prosecuted and the result of them exhibited under the 
eye of the nation; and not of this nation done, but also of foreign 
ones. The former of these ciFccls will take place through members 
of Congress and other functionaries of the general government, who 
assemble Tit Washington fiom all |K>rts of the United States, and the 
latter througli public ministers from abroad. AH striking occurrences 
in the University will become known to these pcisonagcs.who will rarely 
fail to give them publicity. In examinations and other modes of tria}, 
therefore, the standing and performances of the pupils will be subject to 
a much wider inspectioR, than those of the pupils of any other seat of 
learning. Corresponding to this will be the extent of the sphere, 
through which currency will be given to ofiicial reports, and other 
forms of intelligence respecting merit or the reverse— success or de- 
feat, in contests for prizes — lienors conferred, or disgrace incurred. 
Nor is this all. The youth of the University will bo assembled not 
only from the several sections of the United States; the high reputation 
of the institution, united to the spirit of liberty it will foster, and the 
full development that will be given, by its professors, to the engross- 
ing doctrine of human rights, will draw mnny to it from foreign coun- 
tries. Some will repair to it from Spanish America and the West In- 
dia islands, and some from Greece, Spain, Poland, and other p?.rts of 
Europe, where personal and political freedom is prized. A portion of 
the intellectual chivalry even of Great Britain, France, and Germany 
will be found within its walls. This will become another ground of 
intense devotion to study. It will produce the most ardent and unre- 
mitting competition. Among the natives of the United States, tlie 
North will endeavor to wrest the palm of scholarship from the South, 
the East from the West, and each section of the country from every 
other; and between Americans and foreigners a similar struggle for 
pre-eminence will be maintained. In the latter cnse, the question, 
whether the Araorican mind be, in any respect, inferior to the Euro- 
pean? w^ill be finally put to rest, even in tlie opinion of uninformed 
skeptics and prejudiced enemies; and our country will not suffer in 
the comparison. The issue will silence forever the impudent prating, 
and cover with odium the false statements of the Halls and Trollopes, 
and other unprincipled British scribblers, respecting the degeneracy of 
man in America.. No scene of competition equally animated will he 



122 DH, (!ALD;VELL'*< DISCOURSE. 

exliibiicJ in any oilier scat of the muses. Tlie necessary result will 
be, pre-eminent excellence in intellectual cultivation. What youth of 
a lofty spirit and an ardent temperament, feeling that he has intrusted 
lo him a deep stake in the reputation of his country, in a contest with 
a foreign one^ or of the spot where he was born, in a competition with 
another portion of the same country, and apprized that the result would 
be made extensively known to his own honor or discredit — what high- 
minded young man, engaged in such a trial, with the eyes of those most 
dear to him, riveted on him, and th&ir liojies and fears alive to the issue, 
would fail to struggle for success, virtually under th(^ motto of "victory 
or death ?" What youth, I repeat, worthy of a place in the first literary 
institution on earth, would not rather sink under the toils of intense 
and unabated study, than fail in such a contest? My appeal is to 
yourselves, as a body of young men, familiar with ambition and the 
pride that becomes you. And I feel confident, that, were you now to 
reply to it, your answer would be isoyn. Under these circumstances, 
the graduates of the University w^ould be among the foremost scholars 
of the age, and must attain a similar rank as philosophers and states- 
men, civilians and members of the other learned professions. The in- 
fluence of this state of things, witli some of its accompaniments, on 
the destinies of the Union, will be adverted to hereafter. In the mean 
time, its beneficial effects on the prosperity of the country, and its 
standing with other nations, must be obvious to every one. 

The maxim, that knowledge is power, is as true of communities as 
of individuals. Other things being equal, the most enlightened peo- 
ple prove always victorious, in every contest, whether civil or military. 
Is there a struggle for superiority in agriculture, commerce, or the 
arts? knowledge decides, it. And, in war, ignorance and barbarism 
readily j'ield to civilization and science. The conquest of Mexico 
and Peru, by the Spaniards, and of numerous and powerful tribes of 
Indians, by the cavaliers of Jamestown and the pilgrims of Plymouth, 
are in proof of this. Nor, when all the circumstances of the case are 
taken into view, is the subversion of the Roman empire, by the hordes 
of the North, in contradiction of it. The knowledge elicited and dif- 
fused through our country, then, by the National University, will give 
us strength and splendor at home, and that will give us standing and 
influence abroad. Deference will be always paid to us, our rights will 
be respected, and our friendship courted by other nations, precisely in 
proportion to our power to protect our rights, command respect, and 



DR. Caldwell's discouhse. 123 

confer favors. And that power will be in the ratio of the knowledge 
we possess, and our wisdom and energy in bringing it into action. 

Am I asked how the operations of a literary institution, erected 
merely for the instruction of youth, can produce such elTccts in strength- 
ening the Republic? I answer, by enlightening the Republic, and 
diffusing through it sound and patriotic dispositions, and thus making 
it ONE. It will be understood that the unity to which 1 allude is not a 
consolidation of the States, but a strict compliance, by them, with the 
duties enjoined on them by the federal constitution. And this end 
will be greatly promoted, by the knowledge communicated to youth, 
and the national spirit cultivated and confirmed in tlicm, by the educa- 
tion received in the National University. That education will be so 
far federal, as to represent federal principles and measures in their true 
character and relations, shov/ them to be indispensable to the welfare 
of the- country, and, in this way, implant securely a due regard for them 
in the juvenile mind. The youth thus instructed will ripen into men, 
and conduct, at a future period, the affairs of the commonwealth. 
They will become members of the state and general governments, 
and may acquire, in time, an influence not to be resisted, in maintain- 
ing harmony between them. Perfectly master of the principles of 
both, as well as of their delicate and important relations, and having 
no preponderating biasses on the subject, they will be the most compe- 
tent judges and the safest arbiteis, in all cases of difficulty between 
them. While they will prevent usurpation, on the part of the national 
government, they will so far moderate the claims of the States, as to 
keep them in obedience to the federal constitution. 

But this is not the only channel through which the National Uni- 
versity will benefit us, as a people- It will form, not only great states- 
men and legislators, but philosophers, historians, poets, and other men 
of letters, of similar standing. And each of these classes contributes 
its part to the power and prosperity of a nation. Whatever developes 
the natural resources of a country, adds to its strength. But an en- 
lightened philosophy alone can do this. It alone can unlock the rich 
stores of mineralogy, geology, botany, and natural 'history, and give 
free access to them. And they are abundant sources of power as well 
as of wealth. The same is true of chemistry, mechanical philosophy, 
and the different branches of mathematics, more especially astronomy, 
navigation, and engineering. They also are sinews of national strength. 
And all these will be greatly advanced among us, by philosophers and 
mathematicians formed by the system of instruction to which I have 



124 oil. caldwell''s discourse* 

referred; and of which a central University is to be the chief organ, 
dreat divines, physicians, and lawyers are likewise substantial and ef- 
fective elements of the power of States. These also will be the natu- 
ral growth of a well conducted system of federal education. 

National renown of every description is national strength. To this, 
mere literary renown fjrms no exception. It is not only an element of 
power, but the most pure and lasting that belongs to the aggregate, 
it endures long after the dissolution of all the others, and sheds a glory 
on their ruins. By erecting a high literary standard, therefore, v^^hicli 
the writers and orators of the country shall emulate, a contra! Univer- 
sity will add indirectly to the strength of the nation. The warrior 
will wield his sword and direct Iiis thunders with the more spirit and 
cficct, fiom a knowledge that his story will be told and his deeds cele- 
brated by historians and poets cf distinction; and he will yield up his 
life more gallantly, and with the greater alacrity, from a confidence 
that scholars will erect to him a monument which will be unimpaired, 
when mausoleums and pyramids shall be but fragments and dust. Of 
statesmen, philosophers, and men of profession, the same is true. 
They also are cheered in their labors, and strengthened in their efforts 
to benefit their country, by the hope that their names will survive, 
through some form of literary composition. So are all men of high 
standing and public usefulness — all, whose individual reputation may 
contribute to the renown of their native land. Nature has implanted 
in them a love of fame, as a part of their constitution; and they do 
their duty more earnestly, and to better effect, from a secret tmst that 
some memorial of them will descend to posterity, in the pages of the 
scholar. Such are a few of the chamiels, through which literature 
adds to the strength of a nation. 

The condition of our native tongue, in the United States, is far from 
being creditable to us. It is nearly as colonial now, as it was when 
we submitted to the British yoke. We have no American standard of 
taste in it, to which, as a people, we are willing to conform. True, 
we have the productions of Webster; and they arc works of great 
labor, erudition, and value. But they are fdr from being generally re- 
ceived by us, as authority in letters. In a spirit highly discreditable 
to us, as an independent people, we look too much to Great Britain 
for instruction in lexicography, philology, and the entire range of po- 
lite literature. This is a species of dependence and acknowledged 
inferiority, not only humiliating to ourselves, but which detracts from 
our standing, in the view of foreign nations, and so fir tends to limit 



Dli. CALDWELL S DISCOURSi:. 125 

\)ur influence with them. In stronger language, it diminishes our 
power. A dependent condition, as respects any thing essential to 
existence, influence, or fame, is incompatible with the possession of 
full power, either national or individual. Great Britain, France^ and 
Germany owe much of their strength to their entire independence — 
their possessing within themselves all that is necessary to scientific 
and literary existence and rank, as well as to national glory. Of an- 
cient Greece and Rome the same was true. I allude especially to 
pacific and social power — strength at home and an ability to exercise 
a weighty influence over foreign nations, by peaceful measures and a 
high example. This is the power of knowledge and wisdom; a pos- 
sessiox- much more honorable than a mere capability to enforce sub 
mission by arms ; and an enlightened independence, on the score of 
vernacular language, forms a part of it. To our attainment of this 
point of independence, nothing else would contribute so essentially, 
as a National University. By either producing within itself the requi- 
site elementary works, or sanctioning oflicially those produced by 
American learning and talents elsewhere, that institution v/ould soon 
establish a standard of literary taste and authority, which would be 
adopted by scholars, as well as by the public. Such an estabhshment 
would be not only convenient and reputable to us, but highly benefi- 
cial. Being itself national, it would contribute in an eminent degree, 
both directly and indirectly, to the formation of a national literature, 
and would have much influence in nationalizing the people. While, 
by aiding to confer on us a name in letters, it would enhance our 
standing abroad, it would also become a ground of national pride to 
us, and bear its part in binding us to a common centre at home. 
Great Britain owes much of the pride and firmness that sustain her in 
all her trials, and no little of the influence she exercises in Europe, to 
her pre-eminence in letters. Sir Walter Scott has added more to the 
sohd and permanent strength of that empire, by his writings, than 
Lord Wellington did, by the overthrow of Napoleon. Germany also 
is rapidly strengthening herself on similar ground. And we shall do 
the same, as soon as our federal system of education shall be com- 
pleted. 

Some branches of science would be advanced in this country in a 
higher degree than others, by the establishment of a National Univer- 
sity. This would be the case, in a special manner, v/ith astronomy,- 
in which, from a want of suitable apparatus and encouragement, we 



^c 



120 DR. CALDWELL'S DISCOURSU. 

are extremely deficient. The United States does not contain a single 
observatory that can be called respectable, much less complete. Ev- 
ery estabhshment of the kind we possess, is restricted in its means. 
Hence, we are compelled to look abroad for all improvements in that 
department of knowledge, which is so surpassing in sublimity, as well 
as so useful, and therefore so peculiarly fitted to give distinction to a 
community that successfully cultivates it. But a National University 
would remedy this defect. Corresponding in excellence with its 
other provisions, its observatory would be furnished with every thing 
necessary to explore the heavens, and make further discoveries in 
them, and to acquire a full and practical knowledge of those already 
made. Other high institutions, following the example set by the cen- 
tral one, would make suitable improvements in their observatories,, un- 
til our country would be as abundant, as it is now deficient, in the 
means of prosecuting astronomical science. We should then be pre- 
pared, not only to vie with the nations of Europe, in our acquaintance 
with the heavens, but to discharge in time our long-standing debt of 
knowledge to them, as relates to that subject. The advantages which 
this condition of things would confer on us, as a nation, both at home 
and abroad, are too obvious to need a recital. They may be summed 
up in the single remark, that it would give us a standing and an influ- 
ence in the empire of mind, not surpassed by those of any other 
people. 

One object of the University would be, to prepare such pupils as 
might be destined for public, rather than professional or literary life, to 
become accomplished statesmen, financiers, and diplomatists. The 
science of political economy, therefore, and of natural and internation- 
al law would be extensively cultivated in it. So would physical ge- 
ography and the science of mind, branches indispensable in the direc- 
tion of the affairs of an empire. Without a competent knowledge of 
mental philosophy, and the physical character of the various sections 
and locahties of the globe, it is impossible to become an accomplished 
statesman. The truth of this might be easily made appear, by an 
analysis of the duties of such a personage. 

There is reason to believe that the globe we inhabit, especially in 
its polar regions, and in the great western and southern oceans, is far 
from being fully explored. To complete its geography, as well as for 
the promotion of commerce and the arts, many discoveries arc yet to 
be made; some of them no doubt highly important. And they must 

17 



DR. CALDWELL^S DISCOURSE. 127 

be made by maritime nations, of which the United States must become 
ultimately the greatest. In the way of discovery, Great Britain, 
France and Holland, Portugal and Spain, have already done much ; 
our own country very little. Hitherto our youthfulness, as a nation, 
has excused us; but it cannot, in justice, excuse us any longer. If 
our fleets and navies can visit every ocean and sea, in the concerns of 
commerce and war, they can also contribute, under proper manage- 
ment, to the further exploration of the globe. Let them be engaged, 
then, to a reasonable extent, in that business. One successful enter- 
prise of this kind, might do more for the glory of our country, and tlie 
benefit of our race, than scores of naval victories. But the faculties 
of the National University, familiar with the wants of science, as well 
as witli the best means of supplying them, and being in habits of con- 
stant intercourse and intimacy with the executive department of the 
government, and acting virtually as a scientific council to it, might do 
much in the suggestion^ encouragement, and direction of voyages of 
discovery. 

By many other channels, which time does not permit me to enu- 
merate, might this great institution diffuse its influence throughout the 
nation. Even members of congress, and other high functionaries of 
the government, might be enlightened and liberalized by it, and ren- 
dered more competent to the duties of their stations . Ignorance and 
illiteracy, coming within its sphere would be instructed, or put to 
shame and banished by it; and, in either case, we should be less an- 
noyed and dishonored by them, in the high places of the nation. The 
government would be more under the guidance of cultivated minds. 
Legislators would endite their own speeches, and public men of every 
description their oflacial communications. No officer of the nation 
would render himself an object of pity or derision, by being compelled 
cither to think or write by proxy. 

Am I asked what influence all this would have in strengthening the 
union of the states? I answer, a vital one. Sound knowledge a 
. correct feeling, under the common appellation of intelligence and virtue, 
are the only powers that can perpetuate the Union. Other things may 
act as auxiliaries, but they alone are the rock of our safety. Com- 
pared to them, laws to suppress sedition and punish treason, and all 
other legislative enactments, even though enforced at the point of the 
bayonet, are but threads to cables. An enlightened and truly virtuous 
.people will cling to the Union, with a resolution that no artifice or 



128 1>K. CALDWELL'S DISCOUKSE, ^ 

temptation can shake, and a grasp which nothing but death can relax. 
But it has been already shown, I trust satisfactorily, that education is 
the only source of intelligence and virtue, and that the best scheme 
of education for the United States, is that "of which a National Univer- 
sity shall be the centre. By such a scheme alone, as I verily believe, 
can the youth of our country be so trained, as to be rendered truly 
national in their character. And if they be not thus nationahzed, the 
Union must dissolve. It will return to its original elements, as our 
bodies do to dust, long before the middle of the present century, unless 
the growing sentiments of state rights, state sovereignty, and other 
popular prejudices of the kind, be kept within the limits of our federal 
constitution. ^ 

But this is not all. The power and splendor, which the scheme of 
education I am considering, must confer on the nation, would further 
add to the strength of the Union. Whatever may augment our na- 
tional glory must have this effect. Man is instinctively attached to 
what is great and illustrious. He especially delights in forming, in 
his own person, a part of it, because the relation is flattering to his 
vanity and pride. Great Britain and France may be safely cited in 
confirmatioR of this. In science, literature, arts, and their accompa- 
niments, those empires are great and glorious. Hence their subjects 
are inordinately wedded to them. Nothing can induce them to efface 
or forget their national birthright. They may deeply complain of the 
abuses of government, and oppose them even in arms. But no matter. 
In all that constitutes patriots, or gives character to men, they are 
Frenchmen and Englishmen still. Let the empires be reduced to the 
standingofpetty powers, and the attachment of the subject will be 
also reduced. Of the ancient Greeks and Romans the same might be 
afhrmed. Their countries were the most powerful and illustrious" on 
earth; and hence their patriotic devotedness was the most intense. 
They would have preferred death in any form, to the extinction of their 
nationality. Nor, as respects the United States and their inhabitants, 
will the case be otherwise. Give to the nation the power and splen- 
dor, which a federal scheme of education would bestow, and, by 
that consideration alone, the attachment of the people to it will be 
greatly strengthened. That bodies attract in proportion to their 
magnitude, is as true in ethics, as it is in physics. By a wise and 
vigorous administration of our affairs, the American nation is destined 
to be, in a sliort tim?, pre-eminent in power and lustre over all others. 



" DK. Caldwell's orscouKsi:, 129 

And that circumstance will tend to the preservation of the Union, 
The several States will glory in being parts of so splendid an empire ; 
and their disposition to recede from it will be extinguished. They 
will be convinced that the weight and respectability which each of them 
possesses, as well as the safety and prosperity which it enjoys, when 
they are united and moving in mass, would be lost to them, should 
they separate and act in fragments. They will be sensible of their 
resemblance, in this respect, to an army, which, when advancing in 
column, is irresistible, but is easily vanquished, when its airay is 
broken. 

Two further grounds, on which a National University would minister 
to the strength of the Union, and I am done. Nor can I doubt that 
you will concur with me, in considering them powerful ; because you 
have yourselves experienced their force. 

Young men, especially those of warm temperaments and generous 
dispositions, are strongly attached to the place of their education. 
Their devotedness to it arises at times almost to idolatry. Nothing is 
to them so lovely and sacred, as the venerated walls of their alma ma- 
ter; while her embowering groves, assimilated in their fancy to that 
of Egeria, in. the retirement of which they have pursued their studies, 
and her classical walks, where they have often strayed in lonely con- 
templation, or in fellowship with friends, possess for them the enchant- 
ment of consecrated ground. No other spot of earth, save that which 
enshrines the relics of their forefathers, is so holy in their sight. 
From any hostile violation or unhallowed touch they would protect 
it with their lives, or rejoice to wash out the stain with their blood. 
To your own emotions, at the present moment, I dare appeal for the 
truth of this statement. 

But, as already represented, the capital of the nation, or some other 
spot in the District of Columbia^ would be the seat of the National 
University. To that spot v/ould cling, with the unyielding force of 
filial attachment, the affections of the pupils educated there, in what- 
ever section of the country they might reside. The circumstance, as 
far as the early and cherished prepossessions of distinguished men 
might avail, would bind the members of the Republic to its centre, 
with cords formed of some of the choicest materials of our nature. 
Should danger, from without or within, threaten tlie capital, identified 
with the University in the minds of the alumni, they would hasten to 
its defence, from every point of the Union, with Resolutions and means 



130 DK. CALDWELL'S DISCOURSE. 

which ft would be impossible to resist. Under such circumstances, 
Washington would be to them what Paris is to Frenchmen, and what 
Rome was to her sons who had been trained within her walls. Every 
thing would be done that wisdom could devise or gallantry dare, to 
protect her from dishonor, and preserve her inviolate, as the heart of 
the nation. Nor would the sons of the institution come alone. From 
theif standing and influence, they would be able to bring along with 
them a sufficient force of the chivalry of the country, to insure success. 
Thus would filial reverence and love co-operate in strengthening the 
union of the States. 

But this is not all. Youth is the period for the formation of friend- 
ships. The mind at that season, when nature is in blossom, being 
neither callous from care, nor flinty from selfishness, is alive, to all that 
is generous and attractive. Nor are any friendships stronger or more 
lasting, productive of higher gratification to the parties, or of greater 
benefits to others, than those which are contracted in colleges and 
universities. The friendship of Damon and Pythias, so celebrated in 
story, commenced, as we are told, within academic walls. And many 
others, less romantic indeed, yet equally unchangeable, formed under 
the habitudes of college life, might be easily cited. 

As already mentioned, many of the most high-gifted youth, from 
each state of the Union, will resort for their education to the National 
University. Here intimacies will be produced, and friendships to en- 
dure for life, contracted between young men from every section of the 
country, destined, at a future period, to become leaders in conducting 
the affairs of the Republic. Family alliances, in places remote from 
each other, will also grow out of the same influences. Hence will 
arise such an extensive personal intercourse and wide -spread sympa- 
thy, and such a constant interchange of inteUigence and kind offices, 
that the whole nation would seem connected as one great family. At 
least there will be no portion of it that will not have a knowledge of 
the local concerns of all the others, and feel an interest in them. 
Thus will spring up, out of the moral and social relations of the Uni- 
versity, a sort of national friendship and good will, which must operate 
with no small power in preserving the Union. Statesmen, who have 
been intimate from tlieir boyhood, who confide implicitly in each 
others rectitude and honor, and are at the same time personal and 
long tried friends, will be much rnore likely to accommodate difleren- 
res of opinion, conciliate animosities, reconcile jarring interests, and 



DK. Caldwell's discourse. 131 

maintain tlie harmony and integrity of the commonwealth, than they 
would be, were they strangers. This is certain, if any thing be so in 
the philosophy of man or the history of governments. 

But the hour admonishes me to close this discourse. Yet tlie sub- 
ject of it, far from being fully discussed, has been but briefly noticed 
in a few of its points. It will belong to such of you, therefore, as may 
feel^^an interest in it, to follow out the consideration of it, at a more 
convenient time. 

Those of you, gentlemen, who are about to take leave of this seat of 
learning, and embark on the turbulent ocean of affairs, will enter into 
life at a momentous crisis, in the concerns of the nation. Since the 
.perilous times of our revolutionary struggle, the prospects of our coun- 
try have never been so gloomy. The darkest hour of the late war, 
when the British bayonet, associated with the merciless hatchet and 
scalping Imife, was busy on our borders, was sunshine to the present. 
The murmurs of discontent throughout our land, waxing louder and 
louder, and the spirit of dissatisfaction becoming more general and 
embittered, threaten us fearfully with civil commotions. In the event- 
ful scenes likely to grow out of this condition of things, you will be 
called on to act your parts ; and I do not permit myself to doubt that 
they will be, in all instances, correct and honorable, and in many dis- 
tinguished- — such as may become high-minded patriots and virtuous 
citizens. Though I cannot but feel assured that, in your political ca- 
pacity, the UNION OF THE States will be the pole star of your move- 
ments, I notwithstanding take the the liberty earnestly to implore you 
to that effect. Let the Hepublic, and the loliole Republic, be the ob- 
ject of your most intense and devoted regard. Whatever may be his 
standing as a man, or his pretensions as a statesman, patriot or moralist,, 
distrust the motives and reject the counsels of him, whose language 
or measures lean toward Disunion. Admit not the fellowship, nor 
breathe even the atmosphere of the modern Cataline. He is smitten 
with a moral leprosy, dangerous to youth, and no communion should 
be held with him by the healthy. No matter what may be the ground^ 
real or pretendedj of his dissatisfaction witJi the government; and no 
matter what his own condition, high or low, rich or poor, a private citi- 
zen or a pubhc functionary; if he openly advise or secretly suggest a 
breach of the Union, or if his conduct tend to that eftect, he is a traitor 
to his country, and should receive, in the abhorrence of the virtuous, 
if not from penal law, the reward of his crime. 



132 Dii. (Caldwell's discoukse. 

To bring befpre us, in its true character, the enormity of those who 
would foster sedition, and separate the States, let us contemplate, for 
a moment, the nature and magnitude of the evil they meditate. This 
we may do, in a degree sufficient to consummate our detestation of 
those who would violate the integrity of the nation, by looking but for 
an instant on hasty sketches of Union and Disunion, and contrasting 
the bright felicities of the one, with the deep desolation and horrors of 
the other. 

Let the Union be preserved, by a strict obserTance of the provisions 
of the constitution, and the government be faithfully administered 
under a code of salutary laws, and the issue of the great political ex- 
periment w^e are making, will be glorious, not only beyond example,, 
but beyond the anticipations of the boldest calculator. Extravagant as 
this prediction may possibly be deemed, it is notwithstanding justified 
by the history of the past. Hitherto our progress in prosperity has 
outstripped hope, and filled even the measure of imagination itself. 
Be the Union maintained then, I say, and, in the full enjoyment of 
their liberties and rights, the people of the United States will experi- 
ence a degree of political and social happiness, known only to them- 
selves. Content and abundance will every where prevail. Under 
the infl^uence of institutions founded in wisdom, and constantly im- 
proving from experience and fresh developments of mind, and by the 
protected and productive industry of the citizens, the nation \Vill ad- 
vance in opulence and grandeur, until it shall leave far behind it, all 
that the rivalry of other nations can achieve. During the lifetime of 
some to whom I now address myself, the population of the States 
will surpass one hundred millions,- and, from various moral considera- 
tions, their weight and power in the concerns of the world, will be far 
beyond their numbers. From causes already cited, they will be peace- 
ful within ; and no foe from without will court destruction, by troubling 
their repose. As soon would the mariner challenge to conflict the 
deep on which he floats. Humanly speaking, they will be at the defi- 
ance of fortune. No earthly power will be able to shake them in their 
purposes, or stay them in their march toward the object of their wishes. 
By their own wisdom, aided by the strength of their navies, they will 
be the arbiters of maritime law; and through their merchantmen, they will 
receive into their ports an abundant supply of the riches of the world. 
In all things that may minister to tlie prosperity, strength and splendor 
of the country, and the convenience, comfort and happiness of the peo- 



133 

pie, their internal improvements will correspond with their general 
condition. In a special manner, their agriculture and manufactures 
will be in a state of high perfection; flourishing towns and cities will 
spring up in numerous places which are now overshadowed by forests, 
or rich in the gorgeous growth of the prairie; hills and mountains will 
be levelled or tunnelled, and roads and canals, of the best construction, 
formed for the accommodation of the traveller and the man of business; 
and steam vessels, and others of the choicest workmanship, will cover, 
in numbers conforming, to the wants of the nation, the broad surfaces 
of our lakes and rivers. Under the favoring auspices of peace, and 
through a federal scheme of education, suitably conducted, the intel- 
lect of the country will be developed in an unprecedented degree, and 
all the products of minds correspondingly improved. In fine : the 
Republic, I repeat, will present a spectacle of moral and pohtical 
grandeur and glory, new to the world, and which no effort of mine can 
pourtray. And our unrivalled prosperity, under free institutions, will 
insure, in the end, the overthrow of despotism^ and the freedom of our 
race. 

Do you doubt the accuracy of this picture, and suspect it of exag- 
geration? Let me invite you to take a calm retrospect of the last 
half century. Examine with care, and inform yourselves correctly, 
what the United States were fifty years ago, compared witli what they 
are now. Having done this, calculate, reasonably, their future prog- 
ress, under the same form of government, wisely administered, and 
say, on your best judgment, whether I have either drawn or colored 
extravagantly, in the representation just submitted to you. Nor do I 
fear the issue. You will promptly acquit me of all exaggeration. 
Such, then, will be the condition of our country, in less than three 
fourths of a century, if the Union be preserved. The contrast, could 
it be suitably drawn, would furnish the more striking and impressive 
picture. 

Let the Union be severed, by groundless discontent,, or the projects 
of ambition, and all these prospects will vanish like a vision, and a 
scene of realities, the perfect reverse of them, arise in their stead. A 
great and powerful nation, liberal and magnanimous in its views, and 
peaceful in its temper, will be broken up, not into two or three large 
communities, but into a number of feeble, jealous, and fretful ones. 
For but few of the States will coalesce with each other. From pride 
and ambition inducing each oi the larger States to aim at supremacy, 

IS 



134 DR. Caldwell's discoukse. 

they will inevitably separate j and should they consent to unite witli 
any of the smaller ones, it will be on such terms as will deprive the 
latter of independent sovereignty — a condition which will be submit- 
ted to only as the issue of compulsion. These petty powers, instead 
of viewing each other as ancient friends and neighbors, that had fought, 
and bled, and triumphed in a common cause, will burn with the mu- 
tual animosity of rivals and foes. Their feuds, moreover, will have 
the rancor and bitterness of family hatred. Hence, domestic concord 
will soon give place to civil commotion; the olive will wither through- 
out the land, and the laurel spring from the blood-^stained soil. The 
industry and arts of peace will fail, and many of the fairest productions 
perish, under the unsparing operation of war. The plough being ex- 
changed for the sword, by the youthful and vigorous, agriculture will 
be abandoned, or practised only by the feeble and incompetent. In- 
stead of fresh towns and cities rising in their pride and beauty, to em- 
bellish the country and give comfort to the people, many of those al- 
ready erected will be converted into scenes of desolation and mourn- 
ing. The brightness of day will be obscured by their smoke and ashes, 
and the darkness of night dispelled by their burning. Of ravages like 
these, united to a general abandonment of productive labor, extensive 
poverty and wretchedness, with their usual concomitants of profligacy 
and crime, will be the fatal issue. Peaceful enterprise of every des- 
cription being thus paralyzed, all that belongs to the permanent great- 
ness and power of nations, will necessarily retrograde. If the com- 
munities become comparatively strong and terrible in battle, it will be 
but for a season. Their strength will be the offspring of unnatural 
excitement, and, therefore, evanescent. It will be btit the furious 
vigor of the bacchanal or the maniac, destined to fade with the fervor 
which produced it. Their power and influence abroad, in common 
with their real strength at home, will be now but • matter of history. 
Not a remnant of either will survive, except in mouldering ruins and 
saddened remembrance. No foreign nation will respect or consult 
them, or have any other connection with them, than that of turning 
them to its own interest. Their naval force. being also enfeebled, the 
petty remains of their fleets will be liable to insult and aggression 
which they dare not resent, and their sea-coast to invasion which they 
will be unable to repel. As education cannot flourish amidst the 
strife of ai-ms, more especially intestine strife, mental cultivation will 
degenerate, and ignorance and comparative barbarism usurp the places 



DR. Caldwell's discourse. 105 

^f civilization and knowledge. This disastrous condition of things 
will be aggravated, in all its appalling qualities, by the ferocious bor- 
der warfare that must extensively prevail. From our national temper- 
ament we are prone to extremes. The French and Irish perhaps 
excepted, we are more so than any other enlightened people. From 
being now uncommonly peaceful in our dispositions, we shall then be- 
come, in an equal degree, belhgerent. The business of war will make 
a part of the stated occupation of each community. Instead of peace- 
ful and smiling villages, garrisoned fortresses and frowning batteries 
will mark the division lines betvveen the different States. In such, a 
candition of things, bodies of militia-men will be insufficient for the 
war-like purposes of tjie country. "Citizen soldiers,". as they are fan- 
cifully ternied, dressed in gaudy attire, and marshalled on a green- 
sward lawn, or strutting to music, through the streets of a city, may 
gratify the gaze of the million, on a parade day, when all is peace. 
But experience, as well as history, assures us, that it is unsafe to con- 
fide in them on the day of battle. Besides, the people will become 
dissatisfied with sleeping on their arms, and being constantly on the 
alert to repel aggression. They will prefer the existence of a regular 
soldiery among them to a life of such disquietude and ruinous interrup- 
tion. Standing armies, therefore, with all the expenses and other 
mischiefs they involve, will form another feature of the time I am 
pointing to. And these, being themselves the product of war, will 
necessarily tend to the promotion of that evil. The "pomp and cir- 
cumstance""- attending them, will develope a martial spirit among the 
youthful, which nothing can restrain. Nor do men, bred to arms and 
prepared for battle, submit with patience to the repose and ennui of a 
peaceful life, especially if they be loitering in the neighborhood of a 
foe. Like other men, enamored of their profession, they delight in the 
practice of it. Should no opportunity, therefore, to unsheath their 
swords be presented to them, they will seek one. Rut. this is not all. 
The weaker States will contract alliances (most probably foreign ones) 
as a protection against the stronger. Thus will they virtually sink into 
colonies again, proving themselves, by the act, alike regardless and 
unworthy of fhe independence and freedom which their heroic sires 
bequeathed, as an inheritance, to degenerate sons. And England and 
France may meet again in aims, on fields that were once the abode of 
freemen, to contend for the mastery over subjugated Americans. The 
worst, perhaps, is to come. After a long course of the most embittered 
and sanguinary wars, a few rival chieftains, at the head of powerful 



13(3 DR. oaldwell's discourse^ 

armies, will agree to partition the nation between themselves, erect 
separate empires, assume the diadem, and subject the country of Frank- 
lin and Washington to military despotism. Or a modern Philip may 
arise, and lord it over the whole. And thus will sink, in hopeless 
darkness, the watch-fires of liberty, which our glorious ancestors had 
kindled on our hills. Thus will fail, for ages, if not forever, the most 
sublime and momentous experiment the world has witnessed, to deter- 
mine the self-governing capacity of man — to solve the great question, 
whether we are the heirs of reason and virtue, or the minions of pas- 
sion and the instruments of misrule? For the issue of this experi- 
ment, be it successful or adverse, will not be confined, in its influence j 
to ourselves. It will thrill, like the lightning from Heaven, to the cen- 
tre of every nation that is panting for freedom. If fortunate, it will be 
to it the messenger of joy, and will brighten its prospects with the 
day-spring of hope. If the reverse, it will proclaim to it a continuance 
of its chains, and be the herald of despair. And while Freedom shall 
mourn over the fallen and hopeless fortunes of our race, Despotism, 
surrounded by the trophies of his recent victory, will sit more securely 
on his throne, and survey, with a sterner and less dubious delight, the 
desolation around him. 

To the blood-stained history of the States of Greece, the annals of 
the fierce Italian Republics, and the records of wars between petty 
sovereignties in other parts of Europe, I refer you for matter to sustain 
the views I have here submitted to you. Tell not me that we are a 
more discreet and reasonable people, and will not run into such wild 
extremes, or madly court such fatal catastrophes. To Heaven I ap- 
peal for my sincerity in declaring that, all things considered, I think 
we are less so. We are much more awfully stricken with political in- 
sanity, than either of the early and less enlightened people, to whom 
I have alluded. They never had a form of government like ours, nor 
enjoyed the blessings we are about to forfeit. They could not, there- 
fore, be sensible of their value. They were but unfortunate in never 
possessing what we shall be criminal in trampling under foot. And 
for what? — A mere mess of pottage — in the shape of a few bales of 
cotton and tierces of rice ! For this — a thing so unspeakably paltry, 
compared to the effects it threatens to produce — our birth-right, as 
freemen, is to be bartered, a nation is to be laid in blood, the happiness 
of innumerable and unborn millions blighted, the light and glory of the 
most prosperous and promising empire forever extinguished, and the 



137 

spirit of Freedom, like Hope, by the ills of the fated box, exiled from 
earth, to find a restnig place in some more congenial and fortunate 
sphere ! Was ever delusion so fatal before, or madness so triumph- 
ant? But I forbear to pursue the subject any farther. It is as much 
too weighty for words as it is too painful to be dwelt on. 

Such, gentlemen, is the contract, imperfectly drawn, between the 
consequences of the Union and Disunion of the States. The work 
is in progress, and you, I repeat, will be summoned to bear your part in 
it. And, might my aspirations avail, they would be earnest and in- 
cessant, that your labors in the mighty cause may redound alike to 
your own honor and the welfare of your country; and that, by the 
means just indicated, and such others as may be necessary, the fabric 
of the Federal Government, the most glorious product of human wis- 
dom, may be so strengthened and confirmed as to prove as steadfast 
AS Nature and as lasting as Time. 



ADDRESS, 
BY TIMOTHY WALKER, A. M. 

DELIVERED BEFORE THE UNION LITERARY SOCIETY OF BIIAMI UNIVERSITY, 
AT THEIR ANNIVERSARY CELEBRATION, SEPTEMBER 25TH, 1832. 

Gentlemen of the Union Literary Society, 

The honor of being invited to address you, on this your Anniver- 
sary, is the more flattering, because conferred upon a stranger. To 
almost all who hear me, I am, personally, unknown. This circum- 
stance, however, while it calls for warmer thanks, would render my 
situation peculiarly embarrassing, did I not derive encouragement from 
the objects of your society and the character of its members. 

You are associated to promote the best interests of Literature and 
Science, in this growing Western community. While enjoying the 
privileges of this flourishing University, you have wisely embraced the 
opportunities afforded you for social co-operation; and already, though 
this is <)nly your sixth anniversary, a spacious and beautiful hall, and a 
well selected library, cabinet, and apparatus, attest the zeal and spirit 
with which you have prosecuted your undertaking. Nor are the bene- 



138 

fits of your society confined to the period of your residence here. This 
tie of brotherhood connects you permanently with those who have gone 
before you, and those who are to come after. Each successive year 
will contribute to swell your means and numbers; and, as often as the 
college jubilee comes round, you will lay aside the cares and troubles 
of the noisy world, and re-assemble in this delightful retreat, to live 
over again, in an hour of sweet communion, the pleasures of your col- 
lege life. This annual meeting cannot fail to be as useful as it is 
agreeable. The genius of the place will shed its happy influences 
around. Your return to classic ground will call up your classic recol- 
lections. If the avocations of life have a tendency — as too frequently 
they have — to withdraw your affections from your Jlrst pure love, the 
slumbering flame will be here rekindled. By the most natural of all 
associations, you will think of the fervid pages over which you' have 
glowed, the animating truths you have investigated, and the immortal 
spirits with whom you have communed within these hallowed walls, 
and ere you depart, to plunge again into the vortex of business, you 
will plight anew your vows of fidelity to the " great cause of literature 
and science. 

Such being the nature and designof your society, I feel as if I were 
addressing brethren. So far, at least, as kindred feelings and com- 
mon hopes and interests, together with your friendly adoption, can 
make mc so, I now am one of you. And I propose to seek my sub- 
ject in the occasion which has called this assembly together. A class 
of young men are about to take leave of- their alma mater, and enter 
upon the theatre of life. We who have stood where they now stand, 
can well appreciate their situation. How many fond associations clus- 
ter around that interesting moment! With what various emotions did 
our bosoms throb! As we looked back upon the past, the momentary 
feeling may have been, reluctance to be separated from our compan- 
ions and guides; our quiet occupations and serene pleasures; and, 
with Eve, wc could have exclaimed, ^ Must I leave thee, Paradise P 
But, when we turned from the past to the future, glittering with all 
the gorgeous colors which our young and vivid imaginations could 
throw over it; when we saw the wide world spread out before us, and 
offering a boundless field for enterprise and choice; when, through 
the vista which sanguine hope threw open, we beheld wealth, honor, 
influence, renown, all waiting for our grasp, and almost hastening to 
meet us; how speedily, like darkness before the sun, did every trace 
of reluctance vanish! Then the predominant feeling was, engerness to 



MR. walkek's address. 139 

be rushing fbrwaid'. Like greyhounds in the leash, when the game is 
full in view, we chafed and panted to begin the chase. Alas! how lit- 
tle were we then prepared to estimate the importance of that crisis ! 
Hitherto we had scarcely been, in any respect, our own advisers. The 
counsels of parents and teachers had so entirely controlled us that we 
knew not what it was to be masters of ourselves. So far as respect- 
ed tlie formation of character, we had been almost as passive as the 
marble under the sculptor's chisel. But the scene was then to change. 
The great ordeal was at hand. Henceforward, under the guidance of 
Providence, we were to take our earthly destinies into our own hands. 
We were to assume the responsibilities of men, and by ourselves alone 
to stand or fall. It was the turning point of our fate. The die was to 
be cast on which every thing dear to our hopes depended. All inex- 
perienced as we were, the pregnant moment had arrived, when our 
manhood was to be assayed and proved. The Rubicon of life was be- 
fore us; once for all; a line of conduct was to be adopted, and the cor- 
ner-stone of character laid. If we did not feel all this at the moment, 
we now see it in the retrospect. Experience has begun to teach us 
how vast an undertaking is the formation of character. 1 how ar- 
dently, but vainly, have we often wished tliat we could have begun 
this task with the light of after years ! There are two questions, which? 
could they be fully answered, would resolve the whole difficulty. What 
shall young men do? What shall young men avoid? I shall not at- 
tempt to answer either of these questions fully, for it would be impos- 
sible. Perhaps the best answer, for a summary one, ever given by an 
uninspired pen, is that of Shakspeare, in the advice of Polonius to his 
son, on going abroad; a part of which I beg leave to quote — 
'Give thy thoughts no tongue. 

Nor any unproportlon'd thought his act. 

Be thou familiar, but by no means vulgar. 

The friends thou hast, and their adoption tried. 

Grapple them to thy soul with hooks of steel; 

But do not dull thy palm with entertainment 

Of each new-hatch'd, unfledg'd comrade. Beware 

Of entrance to a quarrel; but being in, 

Bear it, that the opposer may beware of thee. 

Give every man thine ear, but few thy voice. 

Take each man's censure, but reserve thy judgment. 

Neither a borrower nor a lender be; 

For loan oft loses both itself and friend, 



140 MR. walker's address. 

And borrowing dulls the edge of husbandry. 
This, above all: to thine own self be true, 
And it must follow, as the night the day. 
Thou canst not then be- false to any man.' 

Could each of these precepts be strictly observed, they would as- 
suredly make a prudent, if not a finished, man. But, instead of at- 
tempting a general essay on the formation of character, what I propose, 
in the following remarks, is, to point out some of the evil influences to 
which American young men are exposed, in the commencement of 
their career. 

I. And, in the first place, at the very threshold of active life, we are 
apt to overlook the distinction between character and reputation. 

These two things, so widely different, are often fatally compounded. 
The distinction is this: character is determined by what a man is, in 
reference to himself alone ; reputation, by what he- seems to he, in the 
opinion of the world. Character is the, combined result of our thoughts 
and actions, as they exhibit themselves to the all-seeing Eye ; reputa- 
tion is the result of the conclusions drawn by our fellow-men, respect- 
ing our thoughts and actions . Of character, conscience is the arbiter; 
of reputation, mere opinion. Hence it is possible that directly oppo- 
site decisions may be pronounced at the two tribunals. Our reputa- 
tion may be as bright as morning, when our character is as black as 
night. Fallible men may mistake or misrepresent us, and thus fix our 
estimation too high or too lowj but with God and our secret con- 
science there can be no mistake. Keputation we hold at the mercy 
of men, exposed to the buffetings of flattery and detraction. But 
character depends upon no such tenure ; it rests not on opinion, and 
is, therefore, independent of contumely. Human breath can neither 
make nor mar it. Be it good, or be it bad, it is our own work, and we 
alone are answerable for it. The merit or the blame is altogether ours. 

In one part of this assertion, I believe, all agree . I loiow of none 
who are willing to share with others the merit of their good character. 
But there arc many who inchne to lay the blame of a bad character on 
men or circumstances. This is the favorite subterfuge of knaves and 
fools. The man of guilt and crime endeavors to find solace in the 
stupendous fallacy, that he could not have done otherwise; and the 
man of indolence, who lias suffered his blood to creep lazily through 
its courses, and his mind to lie dead, like a stagnant pool, engendering 
nought but pestilence, is prone to lay the same flattering unction to his 



MR. walker's addkess. 141 

soul. Both delight in comparing human destiny to a dark and resist- 
less current, against which it is useless to row, and down which they 
are compelled to float. Alas I tliey do float down; but dare they ask 
themselves, where tliey may land? As well might the boatman, 
above the cataract, throw down his oar, and trust for safety to the des- 
perate chance of the impetuous torrent. "Strange, that so manifest a 
delusion should ever have found believers! Doubly strange, that in- 
fluential names should have lent it their sanction! Yet even Napoleon, 
the man who, more than any other human being, made the most stub- 
born circumstances bend, like reeds, to his unconquerable will, was 
in the habit, we are told, of calling himself a mere instrument of des- 
tiny, impelled through his mad career, by an unseen and inexorable 
power. Had this been true, how ineffably absurd to talk of glory! 
Whatppssible glory can there be in doing what one could not help? 
The doctrine of ancient Pistol was infinitely wiser, when he said — 
* The world is mine oyster, which I with sword will open.' But it is 
useless to argue against fatalism. • Why attempt to prove that we are 
not wax in the fingers of destiny, when we feel that we are not? Eve- 
ry hiiman being is conscious of self-directing power within, and this 
consciousness transcends all reasoning. 

The truth is, the man who desires to carve out a high character, 
knows that he has power to do it. The ability lies here. The human 
soul is a vast magazine of matchless energies. They may slumber, 
as the thunder in its cloud, if not called forth; and then their posses- 
sor, after a sort of negative existence, goes down 

'To the vile dust from whence he sprung, 
Unwept, unhonor'd and unsung,' 

But if they be duly summoned, they come forth at his bidding; and 
then he becomes the lord of circumstances. Resolution operates like 
faith; all things become easy; possuni quia posse videntur — you can 
prevail, because you think you can. But remember the distinction, 
broad as the great gulf, betwefen character and reputation^^ — between 
what you are, and what men think of you . Every thing in our institu- 
tions tends to excite an undue solicitude about the popular voice; to 
make you look abroad for counsel, instead of inward, where you 
ought to look. You are strongly tempted to act upon expediency 
instead of principle ; and when a given course of conduct is proposed, 
to ask yourselves that ignoble question. What will the world say of it? 
instead of that noble question. Is it right? But bear this in mind,- 

19 



142 MR. walker's address. 

that character is of infinitely higher moment than reputation, and can 
never depend upon it. Men cannot make you good or bad, by calhng 
you so. Yet, as pubUc sentiment is more likely to be right than 
wrong, your reputation will, for the most part, depend upon your char- 
acter; so that, if you in fact deserve admiration or detestation, you 
may, in the long run, count upon receiving it. Of this, at all events, 
you may rest assured, that, if you only take sufficient care of your 
characters, you may confidently leave your reputations to take care of 
themselves. Act in such a manner as to meet your own secret ap- 
proval, and you may smile upon the buzz that goes abroad respecting 

you. 

'One self-approving hour whole years outweighs, 
Of stupid starers and of loud huzzas.' 

IL In the second place, we are extremely liable to set out in life 
with erroneous impressions respecting the importance of wealthy as one 
of the objects of life. 

This evil appears to be increasing. The present is emphatically a 
wealth-loving age. Both individuals and communities are multiplying 
their efforts towards its acquisition. There is hardly a power in na- 
ture, be it the steam, the wind, or animal strength, which is not compel- 
led into constant service. Machinery, too, is working its daily mira- 
cles in the abridgement of every kind of labor. All this is to heap up 
wealth. And then, what is the paramount object of universal legisla- 
tion? Unless you have directed your thoughts particularly to the sub- 
ject, it will surprise you to find how much more the laws have to do 
with the property, than with the persons of individuals. Man, as an 
intellectual and moral being, is hardly noticed by lawgivers j but man, 
as a property-holder, is the object of ever watchful care. Does youir 
neighbor owe you ihe most trifling debt, the law stretches out its puis- 
sant arm to enforce its payment. But suppose you wish him to per- 
form some moral duty, or do a noble deed; will the law.Come forth in 
its majesty to help you? No; such things are beyond its province. 
Whatever concerns man, as an immortal being, is left to the impulses 
of his own bosom; but whatever concerns him, as a banker or broker, 
is made the subject of strictest regulation. Indeed, so supreme a thing 
has money become, that there is scarcely a personal immunity belong- 
ing to a freeman, which has not its price. Hgs my person been assaultr 
ed, my liberty invaded, my reputation blasted; the injury is redressed, 
and the aggressor punislied, through the medium of his pocket. Nor 



MR. walker's address. 143 

is this all. Thera are very few crimes known to our laws, which can- 
not be atoned for by a pecuniary fine. And what is this but a substi- 
tution of money for good behaviour — a sale of licenses to transgress 
the laws ? What is the whole theory of punishment by fines, but a 
general proclamation, that for so- much money any man may have Q,bso- 
lution for so much turpitude ? But what would strike a superior being, 
looking down upon our planet, with most astonishment, would perhaps 
be the legal doctrine respecting the binding nature of promises; a 
doctrine settled after the most grave and solemn deliberation. This 
doctrine is, that the most sacred moral obligation is not, of itself, suf- 
ficient to make a promise binding in law, while the smallest pecuniary 
value is sufficient. In other words : if I promise you that I will do 
something, which, by every principle of religion, justice and generos- 
ity, I am bound to do, and tliis be the only consideration of the prom- 
ise, the law will not compel me to make it goodj whereas, if I have 
received from you the tithe part of a penny's value, as an inducement 
for making the promise, I am held to the strictest letter of performance. 
I might pursue these reflections further. I might refer you to the pon- 
derous tomes on political economy, which undertake to bring the rules 
of amassing wealth into the form of a science,- and to the voluminous 
and angry discussions, which are crowding our journals, respecting the 
tariff and the bank — those mighty subjects of contention throughout 
this land. Our glorious Union is well nigh rent into fragments on 
a question of dollars and cents! But enough has been already said, 
to evince the supreme importance attached to wealth, in this age of 
money-making; in which sense alone, I fear, history will pronounce it 
a golden age. And my object, in making these remarks, is, not so 
much to find fault with the spirit of legislation, as to account for the 
dispositions of individuals. 

It is not strange that citizens bend all their energies towards wealth, 
when governments think so highly of it. But is it wise ? Are we not 
jeopardizing interests of unspeakably higher concernment? Were 
men no more than animals, it were well, perhaps, to make their out- 
ward condition a matter of absorbing solicitude. But for beings only a 
little lower than angels, methinks the heaping up of precious dust should, 
at most, be only a secondary object. And here let me be clearly under^ 
stood. I do not object to a general anxiety for a competency. This 
is praiseworthy. The evill deprecate, is, that tendency, in the pres- 
.ent times, which induces our young men, when they first start in life, to 



144 MR. walker's address. 

make the accumulation of wealth the great and primary purpose of 
their future plans. I may, perhaps, over-estimate this tendency. But 
it seems to be decidedly the spirit of the age to make wealth the end, 
instead of the means, of life and happiness j and this cannot be done 
but at the expense of some of the brightest excellencies of individual 
and national character. I would not wish for the days of Lycurgus to 
return, when iron formed the only circulating medium, although I 
believe the maxim upon which hie mem^orable code was founded, that 
luxury is the bane of society y was then, and is now, incontestibly true. 
If tliere be a devouring worm gnawing at the root of our best institu- 
tions, that worm is luxury. But modern civilization could not tolerate 
the same rigid application of the miOxim which Sparta did. The use 
of ages has converted so many luxuries into absolute necessaries, that 
a greater amount of wealth has become indispensable. Yet still its 

. glitter need not dazzle ail eyes and fascinate all hearts. I would ask 
these questions: — Does freedom gain by an increase of wealth? Is 
patriotism strengthened? Are the heroic virtues nourished? Does 
the mind, with its godlike attributes, thrive on gold? Is the dignity 
of our nature exalted? Man, we are. told, is a being formed 'for large 
discourse, looking before and after.' But how does the master pas- 
sion of which I am speaking, cramp, contract, and narrow down his 
mightiest purposes! O quid non moftalia pectora cogis, auri sacra 

fames! Bound willing slaves to the chariot wheels of Mammon, what 
motive or excitement can we have to high contemplation or great 
achievement? Where the love of accumulation once takes root, does 
it not deaden every thing like chivalry and enthusiasm; make us cold, 
calculating, and selfish; clip the wings of imagination; dim the fires of 
intellect; and fasten down to earth those thoughts which ought *to 
wander through eternity?' Take Hamlet's sublime burst of admira- 
tion, when thinking of what our nature was capable, and see how poor- 
ly it tallies with that inferior being who loves, labors, lives, and all but 
dies, for gold. *Whata piece of work is man I How noble in reason 1 
How infinite in faculties! In form and moving, how express and ad- 
mirable! I« action, how like an angel! In apprehension, how like a 
God!' Such is man, in Shakspeare's high conception. But O! how 
different from that earth-born creature with whom wealth forms the 
wZ^zTwaf WW of all endeavor! 

And here let me protest against misconstruction. I should blush to 
be considered as joining in the vulgar hue and cry against am^ocracj^. In 



MR. walker's address. 145 

this free land, if a man chooses to devote himself exclusively to money- 
making, he has a right to do so. And inasmuch as our lavi^s give him 
no peculiar privileges, from being rich — unless it- be a privilege to con- 
tribute a greater share than others towards the support of government 
— I see not what right any body has to complain of him as an aristo- 
crat. My remarks, therefore, on this head, have been made with en- 
tire freedom from popular prejudice. 

Ill, In the third place, we are very likely to begin life with false 
notions of the importance .of q^ce. 

This may be called the besetting sin of our institutions, the one dark 
spot on the else bright disk of our political sun. One of the first things 
we learn to boast of, is, that we live in a land where every station is 
accessible to every citizen. This is, indeed, a glorious truth. No 
wonder it makes the young man's bosom swell with a noble pride. As 
a motive to bold and persevering effort, it deserves to operate with 
transcendent power. But the good it produces in this way is not un- 
mixed with evil. It does something more than foster generous emu.- 
lation, and excite honorable aspirations. It . generates bad passions, 
and leads to unwofthy practices. I intend no reference to any party 
or class. The evil is a general one. It grows out of the fact that all cannot 
have office at once. To use a current expression of the day, the outs 
must always be more than the ins. Lavish as we may be in the crea- 
tion of offices, they can hardly amount to one for every hundred aspi- 
rants. The consequence is obvious. Where multitudes are scramb- 
ling for what only pne can have, it requires an extraordinary degree of 
virtue to prevent a resort to foul play.- Intrigue then becomes an 
overmatch for desert; tortuous courses gain the the advantage over 
straight; artifices, tricks,x and stratagems, become the order of the 
day; and practices utterly unworthy of high-minded men, are applaud- 
ed because they are successful. To an untainted mind there are few 
spectacles more disgusting than an electioneering canvass. I need 
not describe it, for you ail know what it is. You have seen men, who, 
on any other occasion, would blush to be the herald of their own 
praises as much as they would scorn to asperse their competitors; .you 
have seen such men go about the* streets, in tattered dress, to soli- 
cit suffrages, now blowing the trumpet of their own merits, and now 
backbiting their opponents. It seems as if their infatuation for office 
had clothed them in triple brass ; as if they had forgotten, in the fury 
of the moment, that magnanimity is at the head of noble qualities. 
You all remember the lofty distinction made by Lord Mansfield, and 



140 3IK. walker's ADDJIESS. 

felt by all kindred minds, between that popularity which follows a man, 
and that whichlcads him; between the fitful shouts of a mob, and the 
loud clear voice of fame. Tiiere was a time— it was the Arcadian 
age of our republic — when that distinction wag not merely a fine sen- 
timent, but a rule of action. Our worthies waited to be called forth as 
candidates, instead of putting themselves forth. Would Washington, 
think you, or Hancock, or Hamilton, or Franklin, or Warren, have suppli- 
cated for the suffrages of their fellow-citizens ? Would they have stoop- 
ed to artifice to secure an election? No ; It were profanation of their im- 
mortal names to suppose it. Nay more, could they, without violating the 
high laws of their character, have humbled themselves so far, it would 
have been the certain means of defeat. Their contemporaries would 
not have endured it. They chose to select for themselves and judge 
for themselves, in the first instance, wlio was worthy of their support, 
and who was not; and they would have withheld honors thus asked 
for, as they would have spurned services thus offered. 

Methink.s it might, in some measure, rebuke the spirit of office- 
seeking, to reflect that there can be no real honor in extorted favors. 
When office is tendered, unsought, as a spontaneous tribute to merit, 
that very fact is substantial honor, of which the best may well be proud; 
and, in this view, the gratification would be precisely the same, wheth- 
er it were accepted or declined ; but when it is obtained by trick or 
conceded to importunity, it is no honor. Besides, however office be 
obtained, it seems to me we are in danger of over-estimating its im- 
portance. There is no real^lory in ofifice itself, but only in the man- 
ner in which it is administered. Did Nero reap glory from the station 
of Emperor, or Jeffreys from that of Judge? On the contrary, the har- 
vest of both was everlasting infamy. I repeat it, a man may honor his 
office, but his office cannot honor him; all it can ever do, is, to enable 
the possessor to render more conspicuous the same qualities which 
would distinguish him as a private citizen. And, therefore, it seems 
to be high time that we should learn to think more of the individual 
man, and less of the functionary. I am no decrier of ambition; on the 
contrary, I applaud it, if guided by enlightened reason. But I wish to 
find it in a peasant as much as in .a prince, out of oflice as well as in 
oflSce. I would see ambitious farmers, ambitious mechanics,. ambitious 
scholars, who never think of seeking office, because they believe that 
the post of honor may be a private station. Why not adopt the excel- 
lent sentiment of Pope? — 

'Act well your part;' there all the honor lies.' 



147 

It were melancholy, indeed, if the only path to true glory were 
through' official distinction . Were this to become the universal sen- 
timent, I should tremble for the dignity of American character. Far 
distant be the day when we shall begin to value ourselves chiefly for 
what is extrinsic and factitious. What sentiment can be more anti- 
republican? I AM AN American CITIZEN ! Is not this enough? Or 
must we add, / have a commission — / have a diploma — I carry writ- 
ten certificates of my respectability? Time was, when the exclama- 
tion, lama Roman citizen ! was a passport every where; and shall 
we, who acknowledge no aristocracy but that of nature, who respect no 
charter of nobility but that which the Ahnighty has given, by stamping 
us for men J shall we, the Ipeople, who call ourselves the fountain of 
all honor, and those to whom' we delegate authority, our servants — - 
shall we prostrate ourselves before the images our own fiat has set up? 
Away with such a degrading thought ! We underrate ourselves as pri- 
vate citizens; we fail in proper self-respect, when we ascribe so much 
consequence to badges and places. And the evil is most pernicious 
in its influence upon young men, because their eyes are most likely to 
be dazzled by the pomp and circumstance of office. It seems to me 
that patriotism could not bren-the a purer prayer than that all our youth 
might grow up, and enter upon life, with. a determination to respect 
themselves for what they were, intrinsically^ and not for what the suf- 
frages of others might make- them. The individual man, with his im- 
mortal hopes and energies, would then be every thing, and the tinsel 
glories of station nothing. But now, 

'Proud man, 
Drest in a little brief authority, 
Plays such fantastic tricks before high Heaven, 
As make the angels weep^' 

IV. In the fourth place, we are apt to set out in life with false im- 
pressions respecting the nature of civil liberty. 

There is implanted, in every human breast, an instinctive aversion to 
all restraint ; though, in the social state, this aversion yields to a con- 
viction of the manifest necessity that government should have power 
to execute its purposes. The simple theory of republicanism is, that 
the people voluntarily part with a portion of their natural rights, to 
obtain increased protection for the rest; and these rights, thus parted 
with, constitute the power of government. But the love of power is 
quite as strong and universal as the love of liberty; and heilce, the 



148 MR. walker's address. 

operation of the republican system must be a perpetual .contest be- 
tween two antagonist principles; as the love of power tends constantly 
to encroachment, on the part of government, so the love of freedom 
must tend constantly to resistance, on the part of the people. -Hence 
it is, that jealousy of power, which is but another name for the love of 
liberty, becomes our great republican safeguard; and, as such, caif 
never be too sacredly cherished. But, then, jealousy of governmental 
power is a very different thing from jealousy of individual superiority; 
though, by a most natural transition, one is apt to slide into the other. 
In fact, it has become a fundamental maxini with us, th^it' liberty and 
equality must go hand in hand. These magic words have been so 
often used together, that we are apt to be startled at the idea of con- 
templating them apart. In our magna charta of liberty, it is declared 
that 'all men are created equal.'' In many of the state constitutions, 
it is declared that 'all men are born free and equal.' Now, to these 
declarations, rightly interpreted, every body assents. But the remark 
is obvious^ that, admitting all men to he horn equal, it is not asserted 
that they must remain so.' To guard, hov/ever, against mistake, the 
fraraers of the constitution of Ohio adopted a different phraseology- 
Their language is, that 'all men are born equally free and independent.' 
This language seems to me far preferable to the other, because it is 
strictly and hteraily true; whereas, it is not strictly and literally true 
that ali men are born absolutely equal. There are endless inequali- 
ties among men, at the moment of their birth, over wliicli human laws 
can have no influence, because they "result from that law of laws, the 
paramount and unchanging law of nature. They, are not inequalities 
of right, but of circumstances, of capacity, strength, opportunity, and 
so forth. Li these respects, .so far from all men being born equal, it 
is doubtful if any two can be found exactly equal. And if we are thus 
unequal at the moment of birth,, how much more so must we become, 
as these infant germs of inequality develope themselves in after years? 
Nor are these inequalities repugnant to liberty. On the contrary, 
they are its genuine, natural, and necessary offspring. What is it to 
be born free, and to live free, but to have the capacity and the right to 
differ, indefinitely, from those around us, to soar above them, or de- 
scend beneath them? Our boasted liberty were an empty name, if all 
men are to be yoked together, lest some one should excel the rest. 
But there is no danger of this. It would require a sterner despotism 
than mankind ever were scourged with, to reduce all men to a level, 
and keep them there. Something like an approach to such a state 



149 

may be seen in the serfs of the feudal ages, oi in the peasants of 
Russia, or in the slaves of our sister states j because their iron bon- 
dage hinders them frpm obeying the infinitely various impulses, to 
which the souls of freemen respond. But why argue upon a foregone 
conclusion? It is self-evident that men will approximate to equality, 
not in proportion as they are most free, but precisely in proportion as 
they are most enslaved. 

I have called your attention to this subject, not for the sake of ver- 
bal criticism, but because measureless evil may result from not making 
the distinction. History is full of warning on this point. A failure to 
discriminate between liberty and equality, as the birth-rights of men, 
has more than once resulted in consequences, at the recollection of 
which humanity shudders. It produced the abhorred ostracism of 
Athens, by which every citizen of whom the rest were jealous, was 
marked out for banishment. It caused, both in Greece and Rome, 
those malignant persecutions of illustrious citizens, which have fasten- 
ed upon republics the imputation of ingratitude. But these are far 
from being the most frightful illustrations. In recent times, it pro- 
duced that horrific state of things in France, which history, for lack of 
a stronger phrase, denominates, the reign of terror. There freedom 
had been already purchased by the decapitation of a monarch, and the 
demolition of his throne . But this was not enough for the spirit of 
phrenzy. Equality was yet wanting. Though privileged orders were 
abolished, there were yet some citizens more wealthy, more gifted, 
more wise, more illustrious, than the rest. Here was inequality not 
to be tolerated in the first hour of liberty. The high must be cut 
down to the level of the low, that liberty and equality might walk hand 
in hand. This was the doctrine, and you have- heard how it was ap- 
plied. The guillotine became the potent leveller, with that fierce 
triumvirate, Danton, Marat, and Robespierre, to direct its infernal op- 
erations. The blood of the best citizens was poured out like water. 
To be distinguished from the herd, was to be singled out for destruc- 
tion. Good men died by thousands, amidst the fiendish shouts of 
Egalite. No tongue can adequately tell the nameless horrors of that 
murderous period. Of all the dark pages in history, that is immeasu- 
rably the blackest. And it ought to be held up as an everlasting pre- 
monition to us, against the same tremendous mistake; against every 
attempt to violate that liberty which our fathers left us, by striving to 
force equality upon our citizens. To force equality in a land of liberty ! 
' . 20 



150 

Why, the very terms imply an absurdity. In that free competition 
which it is the glory of our institutions to foster, some will distinguish 
themselves above the rest; and if, through jealousy of superiority, they 
are to be proscribed on this account; if their great qualities or attain- 
ments are to preclude them from public favor; if the force of opinion 
is to be arrayed against them, in violation of the great compact of uni- 
versal freedom; then, I say, the promise of liberty is a mockery, and 
the victims of persecution may exclaim, with the Irish poet — 

^Come, despot of "Russia, thy feet let me kiss; 
Far better to live the brute bondman of thee, 
Than sully e'en chains by a struggle like this,' 

There is no disguising the consequences. We shall fall at once 
under the dominion of demagogues, the worst tyranny that ever infest- 
ed the earth. Equality is the darling theme of demagogues. They 
harp upon it until they have displaced their superiors, and fixed them- 
selves in power, and then preach up subordination; as men throw down 
the ladder on which they have ascended, to prevent others from ascend- 
ing after them. But the miserable trick does not long succeed. The 
poisoned chalice they have mixed is soon commended to their own lips. 
The superiority they have gained, by preaching up equality, is quickly 
seized upon by other demagogues, who take advantage of the glaring 
paradox, and, by a just retribution, hurl them from their places. And 
thus it goes on, in endless change, from bad to worse. But the picture 
is too disgusting to be dwelt upon. And I turn from it, to remark, 
that, if any of us are dissatisfied that others should be above us, there 
is one, and but one, noble method of removing. the cause; it is, by 
raising ourselves to their level, but never by dragging them down ta 
ours. This is a levelling system worthy of ingenuous and honorable 
men. Let our young men adopt and pursue it, in the spirit of magnan- 
imous competition, and their whole united force will be concentrated 
to elevate the standard of American character. In the most fervid 
hour of strife, let them bear in mind, tliat the man who displaces a 
worthier, from any station whatever, to make room for himself, has in- 
flicted an injury upon society, and forfeited tlie title of. patriot. We 
have read, with admiration, of tliat Spartan virtue, which inspired a 
motjier to return this exulting answer to those who praised the memo- 
ry of her fallen son: 'Sparta has many a worthier son than he.' It 
might be looking for something almost superhuman, perhaps, to ex- 



MR. WALKER^S ADDRESS. 151 

-pect a disappointed aspirant to rejoice in his own defeat, as an evi- 
dence that his country had bettor men than he. But who does not 
feel thatj if sucli an instance of self-sacrificing patriotism could be 
foimd, the possession of office could confer' no additional glory? By- 
ron, in one of his moody seasons, has said — 

*IIe who ascends to mountain-tops, shall find 
The loftiest peaks most wrapped in clouds and snow; 
, lie who surpasses or subdues mankind, 
Must look down on the hate of those below.' 

1 trust this ebullition of misanthropy is a foul libel upon iioman nalare. 
For, if it be true that he who surpasses others, must be followed by 
their hate, who would ever toil to achieve any thing great or good? 
Better that all should pine in cold obscurity, and the wheels of human 
4idvancemCnt cease to turn. 

V. In the fifth place, we are early in dangei: of being tinctured by 
the scepticism which is stalking through the land. 

It must be confessed, that there is abundant reason to distrust the 
information that comes tbus through most of the usual channels. The 
licentiousness of the press has reached a fearful extreme. It is a bold 
assertion, but I do firmly believe, that, if you take the whole mass of 
periodical and controversial literature now current, and scan it rigidly, 
you will come to the appalling conclusion, that it contains as much 
falsehood as truth. It has become almost a matter of course, with 
ephemeral writers, to take their side, like hired attorneys, and, right 
or Wrong, to make the most of it. Hence, they present us only with 
garbled and one-sided statements. If, in .our zeal to be right, we 
hear both sides, we still have only the extremes; we still need a 
sworn jury to pass upon the facts,- upon the facts did I say? Alas! 
we have no means of ascertaining, what are facts — they come in such 
a questionable shape. I know there are honorable exceptions to this 
sweeping censure* but, sad to say, they are exceptions, and so prove 
the general assertion. There is not a pulsation of the press, which 
does not send its poison through every vein and artery of society. If 
it were not an odious task, I might expend the sphere of these remarks, 
and embrace books of voyages and travels among the common vehi- 
cles of deception. We should read them as we do romances, and 
with very little more credence. It seems as if the majority of writers, 
like too many politicians, had forgotten that there is such a thing as 



152 MR. walker's address. 

moral obligation in these matters . For they wlio, in private inter- 
course, would crimson at the bare idea of suppressing truth or utter- 
ing falsehood, do not hesitate to palm.ofF falsehoods by wholesale, upon 
the public, with the most shameless effrontery,- as if the turpitude of 
a lie could be neutralized by' its being told to numbers ! We are in 
the habit of expatiating largely upon the advantages which printing has 
given to modern over ancient times. But, if we take into the ac- 
count the amount of eiTor thereby circulated, there will be a fearful 
discount to be made from the gross balance in our favor. This un- . 
paralleled licentiousness is suicidal in its operation. It defeats its 
own purpose, by destroying confidence. Over wise men, there is no 
doubt that the press is hourly losing its influence. If not, it ought to 
be. For it is better to suffer from thirst, than to drink of a polluted 
stream. We are forced to scepticism in self-defence. And did our 
scepticism extend no further than to this kind of information, I would 
not speak of its increase as an evil. We are compelled to form the 
habit of incredulity, in order not to be duped. Common prudence re- 
quires us to station distrust as a sentinel, whenever we take up a peri- 
odical. 

But the misfortune is, that scepticism does not stop here. It makes 
bold to assail every subject. At no period of the world have the foun- 
dations of all belief been so portentously disturbed. I doubt if there 
be a more alarming tendency in the present times, than this revolu- 
tionary spirit which is awakened respecting all matters of opinion. It 
is no longer a mere ripple on the surface, but a heaving amidst the 
depths. It seems as if, ere long, we were to have nothing settled be- 
yond question, but the results of mathematical demonstration. Thank 
heaven, they are beyond the reach of scepticism. Doubt dares not 
approach them. Not one can ever change. They stand, and will 
stand, as firm as the everlasting hills. To all intelligent beings, in all 
worlds, they always were, and always will be, impregnable truths. But 
besides them, what is there that is not doubted ? I could hardly name 
a tenet in religion about which all agree ,• nor do I know of a single 
doctrine in metaphysics, in ethics, in civil polity, or in political econo- 
my, which cannot number very nearly as many opponents as adhe- 
rents. We arc at war about first principles on all these subjects. 
There seems to be a growing and dangerous passion for originality. 
Writers appear to think more of starting new doctrines than true ones. 
Hence, each successive theorist commences the erection of his own 



153 

system, by tearing down all that have been built before. Thrice for- 
tunate the sage who outlives his own hypothesis ! 

The fact is, to doubt is the easiest thing in the world. We require 
evidence to believe, but none to doubt. It costs less effort to assail 
fifty truths, than to ascertain the foundations of one. And then our 
little pitiful vanity is puffed up, if we can unsettle a belief long enter- 
tained. To shallow minds the sceptic always appears more profound 
than the believer. Truth soon wears for itself a beaten track, and 
little fame is to be acquired by walking in it. But the sceptic ven- 
tures to depart from it, and thus becomes a pioneer. This is gazed 
upon as something bold, sagacious, imposing; a splendid triumph for 
the mind, a glorious emancipation from old fetters. The author is 
lauded as a philosopher, and has his followers. And to obtain all this 
eclat, what has it been necessary to do? Nothing but to look wise 
and deny. He who denies has the negative j of course, the labor of 
defence is thrown on the other side. The modest believer has all the 
trouble, and none of the glory; though, in these times, he is, in reality, 
the more bold and independent of the two ; for, so far as reputation is 
concerned, he becomes a martyr to truth. Time was, when an old 
opinion was taken to be true^ until shown to be false. Its antiquity 
was a presumption in its favor, at least sufficient to throw the burthen 
of proof on the doubter. But this is now reversed. The doctrine of 
to- da-Y, prima facie, overrules that of yesterday. -The consequence 
is, that the sunshine of belief hardly lights upon a truth, before a 
cloud of doubt flits over it. The mind scarcely anchors itself firmly 
in a conclusion, before a gust of scepticism comes to heave it from its 
moorings. 

Nor is the evil confined to merely speculative opinions. It saps the 
breastwork of our historical faith. Scholars supposed, a few years 
ago, that they had some substantial information in regard to Greece, 
and Rome, and England. But Mitford, Niehbur and Lingard have 
scattered their old opinions to the winds. It may be that they have 
the right of the case ; but the misfortune is, that readers who cannot 
devote a whole life to the examination of their authorities, can never 
know this; and, therefore, can never be certain but what, before they 
have reigned their century, their thrones will be usurped by another 
set of equally plausible pretenders to historical infaUibility. 

Now in this turmoil and hurly-burly of opinions, what are prudent 
men to do? To believe or not to believe? That is the question. 
Shall we shut our eyes against all new doctrines, and cling pertina- 



154 ME. WALKEH'S ADDRESS. 

ciously to old ones? That will not do; for undoubtedly this boiling 
of the caldron has thrown up much that is worth preserving. Shall 
we then unbind the fastenings of belief, and yield ready credence to 
whatever comes? This were equally unwise; for undoubtedly many 
of the- newfangled notions that throng upon us, are utterly worthless. 
What then must we do? I answer^ we must be cautious, be circum- 
spect, be more than ever vigilant in the examination of opinions. We 
must oppose doubt to doubt; we must defend ourselves against scep- 
ticism, by using its own weapons. We must do as merchants do, 
when credit and confidence are destroyed, — trust nobody. The ad- 
vice of the apostle was never more appropriate ; we must prove all 
things, and hold fast that which is good. To every lover of truth the 
present. is emphatically a scene of trial; but it is most so to young 
men, who have not been schooled, by sad experience, to habits of 
distrust and incredulity. They must walk as among pitfldls and pre- 
cipices, looking before every step; for the age is rife with novelties, 
and they will be strongly tempted to mistake innovation for improve- 
ment. They must first establish their opinions upon the severest 
scrutiny, and then consider them settled, if they would ever know 
intellectual tranquillity. For what condition is more deplorable than 
that of a human soul, drifting rudderless amidst eternal doubts! Per- 
haps it were happier to believe in error, than never to believe at all; 
for though blind credulity is a great evil, yet blind incredulity is infi- 
nitely greater. Between a perpetual calm and a perpetual whirlwind, 
we should choose the former. 

Whether this state of things — which I hope I have set forth too 
strongly — is always to continue, is a question upon which it were fruit- 
less to offer conjectures. It has resulted from the unprecedented 
mental excitement and activity, which distinguish this age from all 
preceding ones. And, therefore, we may hope, as all tempests are 
hushed when they have spent their fury, that the disturbed elements 
of opinion will era long settle down into a tranquil state; and the 
world arrive at that happy condition described by Milton, 'When truth, 
though hewn, like the mangled body of Osiris, into a thousand frag- 
ments, and scattered to the four winds, shall be gathered limb to limb, 
and moulded with every joint and member, into an immortal feature 
of loveliness and beauty.' 

I have thus presumed, without the age or experience which would 
qualify me for a Mentor, to point out some of the evil tendencies, 
against which the young men of our country, now coming upon the 



MR. WALKEirS ADDRESS. 155 

Stage, are called upon to fortify themselves. In so doing, I have en- 
deavoured to avoid every topic upon which the public mind is particu- 
larly inflammable. This place, I rejoice to believe, is never to be 
made a political arena. Though party rancor rages abroad, here let 
unanimity be found. Let Mars have no worship in this temple of 
Apollo. We resort not to academic shades, as to county meetings. 
We come to them as peaceful sanctuaries. They should be kept as 
free from the din of strife, 

'As those deep solitudes and awful cells, . 
Where heavenly pensive contemplation dwells.' 

The pursuits of the student, more than any other which can be 
named, require serenity. His life should be all passionless and pure, 
that he may worship trUth in the stillness of the soul. 

I hardly need to add, in conclusion, that the scholars of the West 
have every conceivable motive to give themselves up undividedly to 
study. Their lot is cast among an infant but giant people, who are 
bounding on in the high and palmy career of prosperity, with a rapid- 
ity surpassing all former example. In no favored region of the globe, 
has Providence poured out his bounties in such magnificent profusion. 
Who can cast his eye over our majestic forests, our luxuriant fields, 
and our mighty rivers, and not say to himself that if we do but half as much 
for our intellectual condition as nature has done for our physical, we shall 
be the most enviable people upon whom the sun looks down ? Upon you 
whom I address, and such as you, it depends whether souls, as well as 
fruits, shall ripen under our western skies. Shrink not, then, from 
the high responsibility which rests on those to whom much is given. 
Already, young as our existence is, we contribute for the commerce of 
the world, our full proportion of the productions of the earth j and 
shall we be deficient in that loftier species of production, which goes 
to swell the great aggregate of human knowledge? Forbid it, patriot- 
ism and generous pride ! Let not the exuberant fertility of our soil 
serve only to emblazon, by glaring contrast, our sterihty of mind. But 
when the stranger, attracted hither from far distant lands, by the fame 
of our rich country, is lost in admiration at finding how much the real- 
ity exceeds report, let us be able, pointing to a highly educated, re- 
fined, and virtuous population, to tell him and the world, with as much 
truth as triumph — 

'Man is the nobler growth our clime supplies.' 



156 



ADDRESS, 
BY THE HON, THOMAS EWIN(i, 

DELIVERED BEFORE THE UNION LITERARY SOCIETY OF MIAMI UNIVERSITY, 
AT THEIR ANNIVERSARY CELEBRATION, SEPTEMBER 25TH, 1833. 

Gentlemen of the Union Litebary Society, 

I FOR some time feared that causes beyond human control would 
have denied us the gratification of assembling on this your Anniver- 
sary. Our State has been threatened, and in some parts visited, by 
that fearful scourge, which, in its inexplicable course, has traversed 
almost the whole civilized world, and recently spread mourning and 
desolation over one of the fairest of our sister States, But a benefi- 
cent Providence willed that the destroyer should pass us lightly by : 
the glpom which his approach spread over our land is now dispelled; 
the pursuits of busy life, where they had been suspended, are resumed, 
and danger and alarm have ceased. You, therefore, meet as you have 
met in times past, and a numerous assemblage of patrons and friends 
attend to witness the annual solemnities of your society. 

You form, gentlemen, a component part of a highly flourishing 
University, whose prosperity, as a son of the West, I view with feel- 
ings of patriotic pride. You are associated for the promotion of sci- 
ence, the cultivation of literature, and the acquirement and diifusion 
of useful knowledge^ — a worthy* cause, whose fi-iend and votary, how- 
ever humble, I am. I meet you, therefore, with pleasure, on this in- 
teresting occasion, and unite with you cordially in all the fellowship of 
purpose and of feeling. 

Those objects of your association deserve to be cherished, not mere- 
ly for their own sake, but for reasons, also, paramount to their high 
va],ue and inherent attractions to their individual votaries — for their 
cause is the cause of liberty, the cause of humanity in its most com- 
prehensive sense, and is, and, under Providence, I trust, destined to 
be, the firm and enduring support and bulwark of. our Republic. In 
odr country, the will of the people is the ultimate power — the basis 
on X'iliich all our institutions repose — and those who look, with anx- 
ious care, to the means of transmitting those institutions to future times, 
must feel how important is the general difFusion of knowledge, that 
the public will may be enlightened, and the popular power be a power 



MR. EWING^S ADDRESS. 157 

of intellect and intelligence. Equally important is it, while the school- 
master is abroad in the land, extending his salutary and enlightening 
influence over the wide surface of society^ that our higher seminaries 
of learning should merit and obtain the confidence of the public. It 
rs theirs to form, the scientificand literary character of a people, and 
they are the nurseries of men who must largely participate in forming, 
the public will, and guiding the future destinies of our country. This 
University, like the rising community from which she sprung, is young, 
and full of auspicious promise; her morning sun has arisen in fresh- 
ness and beauty, and prophetic iiope may anticipate his sure and rapid 
ascension, in unclouded majesty, to his meridian splendor. 

But I cannot look upon the impressive scene now passing before us, 
mindful of the spot on which we stand, without indulging in a mo- 
ment's pause of retrospection — a transient glance into the dark back- 
ward of time.- On this spot, within the memory of many here scarce 
past the period of middle life, and in all the vast and beautiful region 
which surrounds it, rose one uninterrupted wilderness, lovely and 
blooming, it is true, in its native wildness, spread out in rich profu- 
sion and variety by the creative hand, but art and industry had not yet 
reached it; it was untamed by the presence, and unbroken by the la- 
bors, of civilized man. Here and there a solitary adventurer, of Eu- 
ropean origin, had passed over and admired the richness of the waste; 
but civilization was not yet planted in the soil, and the fixed home of 
man was not here. But now, how changed! Before us arises a com- 
modious edifice dedicated to science; around us spreads wide a country 
cultivated, improved, abundant in all the comforts, and rapidly advan- 
cing in all the elegancies and arts, of life; whose smiling fields and 
populous cities have sent forth their thousands, here to witness the 
achievements of the native youth of their own land, in their noble 
struggle for collegiate fame. And may the wishes of every votary of 
science, and the more deep solicitude of the friends and parents of 
those who seek knowledge in these academic shades, be gratified- to 
overflowing, w^hen on this, and in each succeeding year, this Univer- 
sity shall give forth to the world her educated sons, rich in her varied 
lore, and crowned in the fullness of her honors. 

Those of you, my young friends, who are just commencing your 
collegiate course, touch an epoch in life, when it becorhes j^ou to push 
away childish things, and arouse to action all the manliness of your in- 
tellect. Pause first, and look with the eye of sober reason on the new 

21 



I5S MR. ewing's address. 

situation which you begin to occupy, the advantages which it affords^ 
yoUj and the duties which it involves. 

On entering these walls, you bring with you the anxious wishes of 
parents and friends for your welfare and improvement — parents, per- 
haps, whose hopes centre in you alone, and as you well or illy employ 
your time, and discharge your duties here, and, as your names go 
abroad, attended with praise or censure, you bring joy or sorrow to the 
paternal home. 

Here, too, you become, in a more positive sense, the property of 
your country. Connected, as you are, with one of her most cherished 
institutions, the public eye is upon you, and your conduct and deport- 
ment are subjected to its scrutiny. Nor this alone. Your aggregate 
body, and each of you, so far as a single member tends to give charac- 
ter to the whole, exert an influence on the institution, which will be 
felt long after you shall cease to be its inmates. A college is a com- 
munity in itself; and, like a nation of the great world, acquires and 
transmits, sometimes for ages, a distinctive character. In it there is 
perpetual succession. You, whose names are just received upon the 
college rolls, imbibe from your seniors the morals, the habits, the tone 
of thought, of taste and feeling, which are prevalent among them; these 
become yours, and you in turn transmit them to those who, in the order 
of time, succeed you. Thus you, the present youth of this University, 
without, perhaps, appreciating the influence of your example, may 
stamp upon it a character which centuries cannot efface. 

However dissiniilar the stations which your parents may hold abroad 
in society, you should learn at once to feel that yours here is a state of 
perfect equality, except as superior merit, talents or attainments, may 
give an ascendency to those who possess them. You are now in the 
dominion of the republic of letters — a government ever just to merit — 
which knows no hereditary privileges, or transmissive honors — whose 
distinctions wealth cannot purchase, nor power 'command, but where 
all can be compassed by talent and industry. Here the intellectual 
gifts which nature has bestowed upon you, and all the acquirements 
of your own industry, will be weighed and appreciated, not only by 
your preceptors -and fellow students, but by the public at large, who 
yearly attend to witness your progress and pronounce upon your merits. 

Another lesson which you should early learn, is that of obedience . 
— exact obedience to the laws, and a strict observance of the rules, of 
your institution. Those laws are framed by men of high intelligence 



^IR. EWING^S ADDRESS. 159 

^and practical wisdom; men aware of the temptations to which you are 
•exposed, and acute to discern each hidden mischief, the destructive 
•habit, the taint of mind and morals which lurjc in forbidden acts, that to 
you appear of trifling import; and those laws are thrown, as a safe- 
guard, around you, lest the waywardness or facility of youth bring you 
to evil. You, when you enter here, place yourselves, or are placed by 
those to whom you owe obedience, under their influence, and are bound, 
by the highest considerations of moral duty, as well as of self-regard, 
to respect and obey them; nor does it derogate from that true dignity 
and manly independence of character to which you should all aspire, 
to yield that obedience, at all times, and in its fullest extent. Hash 
and impetuous young men, unused to domestic discipline, whose pas- 
sions are strong and. their moral principles comparatively feeble, are 
prone to stigmatize the virtue of obedience, in their fellow students, 
with the reproach of tameness and submission, while they exalt in them- 
selves the opposite vices, with the epithets of high spirit and manly 
independence. But the nature of things is not to be changed by the 
abuse of terms. Cheerful obedience, where it is due, is the result of 
correct moral feeling, and a distinct perception of what is fitting and 
right; and at all times, except in moments of excitement, which are 
periods of moral disease, public opinion within your-walls, the opinion 
of each of you, as. it bears upon the conduct of one another, and espe- 
cially the opinion of the world at large, will stamp the seal of perfect 
approbation on those only, who to their other merits unite that of obe- 
dience to the law, and respect for those in authority. ^Honor thy 
father and mother that thy days may be long,' is an admonition embody- 
ing a promise, which comes recommended by more than human wis- 
dom, and enforced by a sanction superior to that of human law. And 
when the parental authority is transferred and placed in the hands of 
others, charged, as are your preceptors here, with more than a parent's 
duty towards you, surely the obligation of filial obedience, on your 
part, is not lessened, and the reward promised, in. the sacred word, for 
its performance, will not be diminished or withheld. If, then, you 
would wisely pursue your own present and future happiness, fix early 
the habit of cheerful obedience to the laws of your institution, and 
respect and deference for your preceptors; hence will spring up, as 
the plant from its genial soil, a spirit of mutual kindness and affection. 
May each of you, my young friends, merit and receive the due reward 
of this, the earliest and first of social virtues ; and when the bonds 



16<J 3IR. i;wing''s address. 

which now unite you shall be dissolved, and you go forth to the world 
crowned with the honors of your institution, may you bear with you 
also the sympathy and affection of those who have watched over you 
here, and guided your footsteps in the paths of science. 

Though your progress depends much upon the facilities which your 
college, affords you, and the skill and assiduity of your teachers, yet 
these are but helps in the attainment of knowledge. The mainspring 
of success is within yourselves, and all else is unavailing, unless it be 
made effectual by your individual efforts. Knowledge is slowly ac- 
quired by the repetition of externalimpressions upon a sluggish or inac- 
tive mind; and when so acquired, it is forgotten, or becomes valueless 
for want of application. 

A memory^ quick to receive, and tenacious of it^s impressions, is 
:justly prized ^s one of the most valuable qualities of the mind. Its 
importance is universally felt j and in every system of education, care 
is taken of its cultivation and improvement. Artificial systems, too, 
have been devised to aid, or, perhaps, substitute and supply it. But 
none of these which have fallen within my observation, are likely to 
prove extensively useful. If valuable for any purpose, they can only 
be so in the acquirement of such facts as have few connections or de-* 
pendencies which will enable us to combine them in a general system 
of knowledge. For, though many things may, by their aid, be com- 
mitted to memory in a short time, yet.when called up by recollection, 
they come encumbered with their worse than useless connection, and 
we cannot exclude the accessary without banishing also the principal 
idea which it is made to introduce. 

My views upon this subject will be more fully illustrated by attend- 
ing, for a few moments, to your own experience in the acquisition of 
knowledge. All of you have felt how cold and forbidding is the first 
approach to a new department of science. It is liice entering, a stran- 
ger, into a strange land, v/here every object is unknown, and neither 
connected or allied with any thing which is already treasured in the 
mind. Here, study, persevering, indefatigable study, is your only sure 
reHancej and it can obtain little aid from mental disciphne, save only, 
so far as that discipline enables ' you to endure mental labor. But 
when the threshold is once fairly passed, and the first rudiments of the 
science acquired, you are at once possessed of materials for a new pro- 
cess in aid of memory; that Of comparison, arrangement, and combi- 
nation. Tlie active and vigorous intellect seizes upon each new fact 



MR. ewing's address. 161 

or principle with which it is presented, and compares and adjusts it to 
those which are already fixed in the mind. Thus, every thing of asso- 
ciation, connection, or contrast, which are sought as helps in most arti- 
ficial systems, do, in the progress of our pursuits, lend their aid spon- 
taneously to all who are possessed of native vigor of intellect, and who 
arouse themselves to exertion. Method in acquiring and communica- 
ting knowledge, depends upon this. It arises from mental industry in" 
the comparison and arrangement of ideas as they are received into the 
mind, and it acquires finish and force from mental discipline, which is 
well-directed mental industry become habitual. 

We sometimes witness, in active life, and in men, too, who lay no- 
claim to extraordinary talents, almost incredible results of the com- 
bined energies of memory and intellection. Excuse the seeming indul- 
gence of the esprit de corps, if I refer, by way of illustration, to the 
mastery which an advocate acquires, almost by intuition, over the de- 
tails of a cause to which he has been an utter stranger until the mo- 
ment of trial; a cause involved, perhaps, in its legal principles, and 
obscured by a mass of doubtful and conflicting evidences . With him? 
how rapid must be the process of intellection; with what a grasp of 
mind must he seize upon the prominent facts as they arise before him 
in their ever-varying phases; with what rapidity must he compare, 
arrange, and combine, that all the crude and discordant materials 
which are thrown into the cause, are reduced at once to order, in his 
mind, and are presented Vv^ith force and precision in his argument; 
nothing mistaken, nothing omitted or untimely pressed. That which 
would seem to require much labor and patient deliberation, and which 
might have occupied the same individual for days in the leisure and 
retirement of his closet, is thus often performed safely and well by a 
single impulse of intellectual exertion. 

•That the human intellect can thus compass with ease, that which 
would seem to be beyond its power, depends upon what I have already 
suggested : industry, become habitual in examining and comparing 
facts and principles, as they are successively presented to the mind; 
and method, in arranging them according to resemblance or contrast, 
so that, at a single glance, all their dependencies and relations can be 
discovered. This is the synthesis of the schools. The mind is first 
presented with an isolated fact; a single idea, which is known tg form 
part of a whole, which whole is yet unseen; that idea is retained, ex- 
amined, and understood by itself; another and another are presented, 
and successively compared and adapted to each other. When they 



162 MR, ewing's address. 

coincide, the presence of the one brings up, by association, that with 
which it is connected; when they differ, antithesis forms an equally 
powerful principle of association, and thus each is retained with its re- 
lations in the memory. Then follows what must always have place in 
acquiring accurate knowledge; or, as a pro-requisite to close and con- 
nected reasoning, the process of analysis; that experimental structure 
which has been reared by the builder before he could know'what kind 
of edifice his materials would form, must be destroyed. One by one, 
those materials are taken down, and examined and compared with 
those to which they must be united; then follows the final and more 
'perfect synthesis, which presents a finished whole, solid or weak, ac- 
cording to the materials placed in the builder's hands; perfect or irreg- 
ular in its form and proportions, according to the genius and skill of 
the architect. 

I fear my ideas on this subject are imperfectly conveyed. It is diffi- 
cult to speak, with the brevity which the occasion requires, of the op- 
erations of the human mind; and lam not disposed to plunge into 
metaphysics. My wish is, to impress upon you as strongly as I may, 
the a.d vantage of mental activity; and I have said thus much to show 
you something of the extent and nature of your own powers, and how 
rapid is the process of intellection, when the mind is excited by the 
occasion, or urged on, by necessity, to prompt and vigorous exertion. 

To many great men have been attributed astonishing powers of 
memory; and much has been fabled of the expedients to which they 
sometimes had resort to aid this faculty,, in the performance of what 
was beyond its strength. Hortensius, jestingly speaks of Cicero hav- 
ing placed the divisions of his argument on his fingers' ends; and such, 
perhaps, was his habit; but it is elsewhere said, that the minor details 
of his most celebrated orations were located in various parts of the 
forum, and what his unassisted memory could not compass, was thus 
effected by the aid of local association. To this I yield little credence. 
That the mind and memory of Cicero never failed hirn in the foriim 
(except, perhaps, when he shrunk and trembled before the armed 
soldiers of Pompey,) arose not from any shallow art like this, but from 
that admirable method which strikes us in all that he has said or writ- 
ten, and which was the result of great mental industry, habitual reflec- 
tion, and deep-seated knowledge of the nature of man, and the rela- 
tions of things. 

All of you, my young friends, who aspire to an honest fame — who 



MR. EWING's address. 1"^ 

are ready to yield up your ease and present gratification for its acquire- 
ment, be assiduous to form, and diligent to preserve, a habit of mental 
industry; all of you may attain it; and to those who do, it is a sure 
earnest of an honorable result to your collegiate course ; and when that 
course shall be" closed, and you go abroad to the world, if this habit 
attend you, it will bear you in safety and honor through the wide and 
more difficult range of active life. 

And you, who, bidding adieu to these academic shades, are about 
to enter into that world— henceforth your own guides. and the arti- 
ficers, of your own fortunes— pause now a momentontheborders of 
that restless ocean, ere you embark, and note with me the region 
through which lies your voyage, and the winds and tides which are to 
waft you onward. 

As scholars, you enter on the theatre of active life in a favorable age, 
and under happy auspices. Those prejudices against learning and 
learned men, which once existed and struck so deep root in society, 
are fast disappearing, if they be not wholly eradicated; and, instead of 
being doomed to the hatred and jealousy, or the superstitious dread of 
the populace, which, until within a few centuries, was the common lot, 
men of learning and genius, if they have also merit, are now the pride 
and boast of the nations to which they belong; nay, the higher order 
of scientific and literary talent receives the grateful homage of a world. 
I will turn aside and dwell, for a moment, on the causes of this change, 
for it will illustrate my views of the prevailing spirit of the present age. 
You have all remarked how very far the fine arts, poetry, painting, 
statuary, and those branches of philosophy, which have for their object 
the analysis and exposition of the powers and faculties of the human 
mind, have preceded, in pointof time, that comprehensive philosophy 
which embraces the universe in its extent, and explains its laws. The 
reason is obvious : where man is, and the works of nature are, the mod- 
els from which those are copied, all the elements. from which they are 
combined, are ever at hand. Still those early arts were the product of 
a few favored regions and master-minds ; they were confined, also, 
among a few, and did not extend to or touch the general mass. Indeed, 
what could they, even in their highest perfection, avail, to lighten the 
labors, to increase the comforts, or to avert the evils and calamities in- 
cident to the general condition of man? They were patronized by the 
powerful and the great; and they have shed a lustre over the ages and 
nations which produced them, but were unknown or disregarded by the 
less fortunate, but more numerous, portion of mankind. 



164 MR. ewing's addjress. 

But far different is the history of that philosophy which embraces 
the general laws of the universe. The earth which we inhabit, and the 
heavens above it, with all the* wonders which they present to the un- 
assisted eye, did, in the earliest ages, engage the attention, and excite 
the wonder and admiration of mankind ; and men of high intellectual 
powers devoted their lives to the observation of their phenomena and 
in attempting to. comprehend their laws. But no individual man, how- . 
ever great his genius, untiring his industry, or profound his research; 
no succession of such men for centuries, could, in those early ages, 
unaided by model'n discoveries and modern arts, have achieved this 
mighty conquest. Pythagoras, it is true, is said to have understood 
and taught the true system of the universe ; -but with him, it could be 
only a fortunate hypothesis; for facts and proofs were wanting to sat- 
isfy the philosophic inquirer, in his own times and in succeeding ages, 
of its truth. That knowledge which is the accurnulated experience 
of centuries, was wanting. The earth had not yet been circled by the 
mariner, or traversed, as at this day, in all its zones; and the optic 
glass, throagh which the Tuscan artist has since viewed the moon's 
broad disk, 

'At eveningj from the top of Fesole, 
And in Valdarno,' 

had not been given by Art to her sister. Science. Hence that beauti- 
ful catenation of proofs, far more satisfactory than the direct evidence 
of any single sense, which at this day sustains the theory erf the uni- 
verse, puts doubt to rest, and silences even cavil, was unknown, and 
philosophy, unequal to her task, yielded to conjecture. Various sys- 
tems were therefore formed out of a few scattered materials, and the 
ingenious errors of the learned, and the senseless jargon of the impos- 
tor, were thrown together upon the world, to confuse, bewilder, and 
disgust. 

But since the age of sir Francis Bacon, that age in which sound 
experimental philosophy assumed the place which had been so long 
filled by the ingenuity of conjecture, or the wild vagaries of erratic 
minds, there have been settled, throughout the learned world, rules 
and principles of philosophizing, which tend to the establishment of 
universal truth in all things which come within the grasp of the human 
mind. Great men are the natural, the almost necessary, product. of 
the ages in which they arise. So it was with loTd Bacon. Consider- 



MR. ewi?sg's address. 165 

ing the state of pliilosophy prior to his time, and the recent accessions 
which had been made to human loiowlcdge, the new regions of the 
earth which had been explored, the power which the astronomer had 
just acquired, to interrogate the heavens and draw forth a true response ; 
considering, too, the natural impetus which their combined causes 
would give to philosophic investigation, and the means which they 
placed in the hands of the deductive reasoner to expel the host of an- 
cient fallacies, and to establish a system of harmony and truth ; it is not 
surprising that the age produced this great man; for it could not have 
passed away without giving to the world most that he has bequeathed 
us, as the effort of one, or of many minds. The materials were col- 
lected for the foundation of a noble edifice, and lo! a master-builder 
appeared. Succeeding ages have adhered to the principles which he 
first settled and defined; and the march of science has been thence- 
forth onward. It has resulted in a full exposition of the true system of 
the universe, and an explanation of all the laws which govern the 
movement of the celestial bodies ; and now, that knowledge, for which, 
in the most enlightened age of Rome, the Mantuan bard offered up 
his first and most fervent prayer, is brought within the comprehension 
of the ordinary intellect — it is a familiar lesson of the village school. 

Chemistry, too, obedient to the same impulse, has arisen a new and 
beautiful science, out of the ruins of the ancient occult arts. She has 
investigated the substances of which air, earth, and ocean, are com- 
pounded; reduced them to their simple elements; detected their mu- 
tual affinities; their latent qualities; and weighed even their ultimate 
atoms against each other. Meanwhile, all the discoveries of philoso- 
phy, and the developments of science, have beea applied to the pro- 
motion of the useful arts, to the enlargement of the powers, and im- 
provement of the condition of humanity; until, by their aid, the earth 
has indeed become the heritage of man, and the elements are made 
subservient to his will. 

But I will not particularize. It is the sure standard and touch- 
stone of truth which has been gained to science ; it is the overwhelm- 
ing evidence by which the most sublime discoveries of philosophy are 
surrounded and sustained; it is the extensive application of all the 
results of scientific research to the various arts of life, to supply the 
wants, to heal tlie infirmities and increase the comforts and enjoyment 
of mankind, which have rooted from its foundation the ancient popular 

22 



166 



MR. EWING S ADDRESS. 



prejudice against learning, and made the human family the generii^ 
patrons of science. 

Consonant to this state of things, modern hierature has assumed a 
more diffusive character, and a more popular form. The profanum vul- 
gus odi, et arceo, of Horace, however consistent with the genius of his 
own times, is utterly at war with the spirit of literature in the present 
day^ Indeed, many of our most successful candidates for literary 
famey have abandoned the haunts of fashionable life, and sought their 
subjects in the general mass of society. They have not shamed to 
depict the habits and pursuits; to portray the aflfections and passions, 
the sufferings and sorrows, of simple, unsophisticated man; and the 
sweetest poets have loved to linger in the quiet shades, and they have 
wreathed their choicest gaj-lands of flowers culled in the hum.ble walks» 
of life. 

Still, perhaps, it remains a prevailing error of the learned, that they 
fix too low their estimate of the intelligence, and consult too little the 
opinions of the^est of mankind. This is unphilosophic and unwise;, 
all knowledge centres not in schools. Most of the facts on which our 
system of philosophy rests, we owe to the observation of men engaged 
in the ordinary avocations of life. To them, also, we owe many valu- 
able discoveries in the arts, and the lirst germ of most of the sciences. 
The existence, too, of some phenomena of nature, which, resting on 
their observation alone, thus passed into popular belief, but which 
were long rejected by the learned, as vulgar errors, is now confirmed 
by the most unquestionable authority. Those which still remain unat- 
tested by scientific observation, and whose connection with the estab- 
lished laws of nature is not yet traced, should neither be implicitly 
relied on, or rashly rejected — surely not until we arrive, if man be 
ever destined to arrive, at the impassable boundaries of discovery and 
thought — until every substance shall have been subjected to the most 
perfect analysis, and all the sympathies of mind and spirit, and all the 
affinities of matter, and all the relations of each Avith the other, as 
cause and effect, shall have been tested and explained; for there are 
doubtless still many things in heaven and earth, which our philosophy 
dreams not of. 

I would also impress upon you the advantage of extending, as far 
as practicable, your acquaintance with men engaged in the various 
pursuits of life; and of acquiring a general knowledge of iheir avoca- 
tions; the means by which they are conducted, the facilities which 
they possess, and the difficulties with which they may have to con- 
tend. Much of this knowledge may be obtained from books; but 
books alone will not suffice. Its pursuit brings you in contact with 
men; and, from all whom you meet, whether their faculties be limited 



MJR. EWING-S ADDRESS. 167 

or enlarged, you may acquire something which will add to your store 
of useful knowledge. This is everywhere a portion of the prime wis- 
dom; but in our country it is especially valuable. Our government, 
with all its institutions, is the result of the popular will. Subject to a 
beneficent and guiding Providence, the power which created, and the 
energy which must sustain it, are of the people. In every profession, 
and in almost every pursuit of life, which may here invite the atten- 
tion of the scholar, man, as he is, m all the variety of situation, char- 
acter, feeling, and intelligence, and the acts and motives of men, will 
form the leading subjects of investigation and of thought. It is essen- 
tial, therefore, to your future usefulness, that you acquire an intimate 
knowledge of the business and the affairs of men. 

You go forth into the world, gentlemen, bearing with you, not on- 
ly the treasures of science and varied knowledge which you have ac- 
quired within these walls, but what is equally valuable, if cherished 
and retained, a habit and taste for scientific and literary pursuits. 
From what I have already said, you will be aware, that I would not 
have you yield yourselves up to them too exclusively, or permit them 
to encroach on your professional business or study.; but let them not 
be neglected or forgotten. Many hours of the laborious professional 
student are due to mental relaxations; and also in the early part of 
your professional career, ere you find crowding upon you those mul- 
tiplied duties, which come from the fullness of public confidence and. 
the maturity of professional fame — months, and perhaps even years, 
may be rescued from weariness and mental anxiety, by a happy ap- 
plication to hterary pursuits. It is at once a pleasant and healthful 
relaxation of the mind: it increases your command of language and 
your knowledge of things: it awakens new trains of association and 
thought, and stores the mind with striking images; and it may pre- 
serve you, perhaps, in moments of weariness and temptation, from 
turning aside your footsteps into the dangerous paths of dissipation 
and vice. 

A familiar knowledge of general literature furnishes the orator with 
his most polished, though not, indeed, his most powerful weapons. 
Poetic quotations, when well chosen, and so happily applied that 
they seem to arise out of the subject, and especially, if introduced with 
a perfect continuity of language as well as sense, are, in the highest 
degree, pleasing; so also are poetic and literary allusions. To me, 
indeed, they have an indescribable charm; they unite me to the ora- 
tor by a common bond of taste and association; he thus gives me to 
feel that he holds converse with the same masters, living or dead, 
with whom I love to converse; that his mind has glowed over the 
same sentiments of majesty or beauty, with which mine has been ele- 



168 MS. E wing's address. 

vated or charmed; that he has shed the sympathetic tear over those 
ills of humanity for which I also have sorrowed; or that he has looked 
with joy on nature, as reflected from the same mirror in which I have 
delighted to behold her. 

But to you who are destined for the bar — and doubtless I might add 
the other learned professions — no knowledge wiiich you may ever 
attain from the most abstruse principles of moral and physical science, 
down to the simplest facts which pertain lo the ordinary avocations 
of life, will you fail to find useful in your professional career. Your 
business will be with man — his rights and duties, his affections and 
'passions, and the various relations which he sustains as a physical, 
moral, and social being; and as such, you should study him deeply, 
and know him well. And the operations of nature,. visible results of 
those immutable laws, stamped on creation by Deity, they encompass 
man about on all sides; they are above, below, around him; in all that 
he is, all that he does, and every thing to which he has relation; and 
each of you, whose office it will be to elicit truth amid conflicting 
probabilities, and to trace his relations and expound his rights to all 
that he inherits here, should also be the true priest of nature, able to 
comprehend, and, if need be, to explain her laws. 

Most of you, doubtless, in accordance with the wishes of your pa- 
rents, or from a preference formed in the course of your residence 
here, go forth with fixed views as to the profession which you will 
select. Where this is not the case, let me urge the necessity of an 
early choice: and in all cases, an early commencement of your profes- 
sional studies, before the habit of mental exertion which you have ac- 
quired shall be shaken, or your love of fame overpowered by some 
rival passion. 

While in pursuit of your studies, whether classical or professional, 
your success has depended, and must still depend, upon your own 
exertions. It is the office of your teachers to point out and smooth 
the way before you, but the active energy which impels you onward 
is your own. This you have early learned to feel, and in this con- 
sciousness have acquired a just degree of self-dependence, and a 
confidence in your own powers. Bui when those studies at last close, 
and you enter into professional life, that mastery over your own des- 
tinies will seem for a while to have forsaken you. On your first ap- 
pearance, you will find the way filledj and every avenue and point 
of vantage occupied by those who have advanced before you; but let 
not this damp your hopes nor curb your spirit of onward enterprise. 
The same fortune which waited on those who now occupy the stations 
to which you aspire, will, in your progress, attend on you also. Ours 



MR. ewing's address. 109 

is a path which wg enter with trembling anxiety; we toil with aroused 
and excited spirit througli its arduous steps; wo traverse its even ways 
with cheerful confidence; we linger, perhaps, a while, with dehght, in 
its pleasant places, and at last disappear and make room for those who 
are to follow us. 

Cast back your recollection for a few brief years, and behold how 
rapid has been the transition! How many of those who stood first in 
professional honor, have disappeared from the busy theatre, and are 
fast sinking into forgetful n ess! How many, also, of hitherto unknown 
name, have arisen, and now fill the places from which those have de- 
parted! And, as it has been, so will it be hereafter. Time and 
chance, and the changing purposes of men, will have opened your 
way to the highest pinnacle of professional eminence, as soon, per- 
haps, as the maturity of years and the fulness of your acquirements 
shall have fitted you for its possession. 

I am aware that the ardent aspirations of the young enthusiast are 
not satisfied with the prospect of a mere ephemeral contemporaneous 
fame, which, following the condition of our transient being here, does 
but arise, flourish, fade, and be forgotten. The soul yearns to trans- 
form itself, its thoughts, its feelings, and emotions, to after times, thus 
gaining a kind of earthly immortahty. This were, indeed, an object 
of noble emulation; and some of you, perhaps, are destined to attain 
it. For fame, in this land, and I trust in the world at large, will, for 
ages to come, be divided among its numerous distinguished votaries. 
No one man can, in the present state of science and of public feeling, 
draw the eyes of the world on himself alone. 

In an age and country like ours, it cannot be; an age of peace, of 
arts, of science; a country, whose distinguishing characteristic is an 
onward movement, in extending the empire of man over nature, and 
in improving his physical and moral condition here, and fitting him 
for his high vocation as an immortal being. Here it must be by the 
conjoint labors of the learned, the virtuous and the wise, that the 
high destinies of this people are to be fulfilled; and enough of fame is 
in store for those of you and your associates in the literary world, who 
shall be ardent laborers in the fulness of its achievement. Happy, 
indeed, will be the man who shall stand forth first among those who, 
in the march of intellect and improvement, shall represent amd em- 
body the spirit and genius of this nation in the rising age. How en- 
viable the station which he shall hold in life! How proud the rank 
he shall attain in history! 

Go, then, my young friends, happy in the country which gave you 
birth; and happy in the prospects which she opens to your manly en- 



ITO >iR. hall's address, 

terprise and honorable ambition. Blest as that country is, with a gov- 
ernment of equal laws; resting on the firmest basis on which human 
institutions can repose — the public will; standing almost alone, the 
mighty mistress of a hemisphere, with oceans interposed between her 
and every rival power; free, therefore, from those sanguinary con- 
flicts which agitate and overturn the kingdoms of the ancient world, 
your lives may pass away, and ages still may follow, ere the souls of 
her sons be again tried in scenes of peril, or by the presence of great 
national calamity. Still, forget not, that you owe, in return for the 
blessings which she secures you, all the powers and faculties of your 
mind; and, if her need requires it, the sacrifice of every thing you 
hold dear, even life itself, at her shrine. 

Should the blessings of Providence, as heretofore, attend and pre- 
serve her still a firm and united nation^ how wide, how boundless 
are her prospects in ages to come! How countless the myriads of hu- 
man beings, now hid from our finite vision by the veil which shuts 
out futurity, who, successively arising into existence as posterity, 
shall claim at our hands the rich inheritance bequeathed to us and 
them by our common ancestors! Your course of life is but begun. 
You form, in the endless chain of being, the connecting link which 
unites the passing age with that of posterity; and it will be yours to 
transmit to them that heritage, unimpaired, as I trust you will receive 
it from the hands of your fathers. And may you, and those who in 
after times shall imbibe the lessons of v/isdom and virtue from your 
lips, become the ornaments, the pride, and the support of our country. 



ADDRESS, 
BY JAMES HALL, ESQ. 



DELIVERED BEFORE THE ERODELPHIAN SOCIETY OF MIAMI UNIVERSITY, AT 
THEIR ANNIVERSARY CELEBRATION, SEPTEMBER 24 TH, 1833. 

Gentlemen of the ERODELniiAN Society, 

I APPEAR before you to night, in compliance with your request, 
and with no other reluctance than that which arises from a conscious- 
ness of my inability to do justice to the occasion. But I comply with 
your invitation with pleasure, as it enables me to cultivate an acquain- 
tance with those who have done me the honor to give it, as it affords 



171 

an opportunity of testifying my respect for an inslitution of learning 
which is among the most useful in our country, and as it presents 
an occasion, which, properly improved,' may be the means of an inter- 
change of thought, alike beneficial to us all. 

There is, to my mind, an inexpressible charm in such a scene as 
that which I now behold arrayed before me; a congregation of the 
young — a gay assemblage, in which the juvenile form, the cheerfal 
countenance, the eye sparkling with pleasure, all indicate that I am 
addressing those who are young travellers through this world of care, 
whose path is bright before them, and whose bosoms, elate with hope, 
swell with those high aspirations and sunny visions, so peculiar lo the 
morning of life. It is a scene replete with promise, one which awa- 
kens in my bosom, the most pleasurable sensations. There is a love- 
liness in youth: its ardor, its ingenuousness, its buoyancy of spirit, 
engage the best affections of the heart; and the beholder of such a 
scene, involuntarily breathes a fervent orison lo Heaven, that the 
warm and virtuous emotions, and the modest graces of this delightful 
season, may never become blighted by commerce with the world, by 
disappointed hope, by sordid care, by demorahzing vice. 

The young are the hope of their country. They are the descen- 
dants of its patriots, the pupils of its sages, the heirs of its greatness, 
the guardians of its future glory. To them will be committed the 
sacred deposit of national character; the liberty, the laws, and the 
faith of a free, intelligent, and' christian people. 

When we tread upon the classic soil of a country whose name has 
long been enrolled in history, if our studies lead us back to the anti- 
quities of Greece or Rome, we experience a species of delight; but it 
is a mournful pleasure. We" behold the monument of past ages — we 
linger among the tombs of departed greatness, and see around us ruin 
and dilapidation; and our hearts are weighed down by the chilling re- 
flection, that a shadow rests upon these once sunny plains — that the 
sceptre has passed away from them, and their glory has departed. 
Plata3a, Thermopylae, and Marathon, are no longer peopled with 
heroes; there is no poet in Athens, no oracle at Delphi, no divinity 
upon the summits of Olympus. 

How different the feehngs with which we survey our own country! 
All that we behold is young, and fresh, and growing; institutions are 
springing hourly into existence, which we fondly hope are destined 
to flourish through com.ing ages, and every creative art and inventive 
faculty is employed in carrying forward the cheering work of improve- 
ment. Instead of looking back in pensive admiration at the past, we 
look forward with bright anticipation to the future; instead of decrep- 



172 

itude and decay, we behold the winning aspect and high promise of 
youth and beauty. 

And it is thus, if we look abroad upon the world of man. Our ad- 
miration is excited by the great and wise; by those who have run 
their race with credit; who have reaped the fruition of their hopes; 
who have attained the highest point of excellence; who are full of 
years and full of honor. They have gathered their harvest, their 
labors are completed. The spring-time and the summer of life are 
behind them, and the winter of old age is in prospect. With them 
the season for improvement is past, the heart is trained, and the mind 
shaped, and the whole character formed for this life, and perhaps for 
eternity. Imagination ran pictuie for them, in this world, no ad- 
vance but that which shall bo downward, and but litlle change, ex- 
cept that which shall occur when the places that know them now, 
shall know them no more forever. 

It is not so with youth. Their path is onward and upward. For 
them the harvest is still waving. They are preparing for the active 
business of life, and for the bright career of ambition. AVealth spreads 
for them her treasures; virtue and benevolence allure them to active 
usefulness by all the rewards that av/ait a well-spent life. 

In addressing this society, established to promote the interests of 
science and literature, I cannot banish the recollection that its mem- 
bers are still in the morning of life, and that I stand here surrounded 
by the young; by those who will soon be the men and the citizens of 
our country. The patriots of the revolution have dwindled away to 
a feeble band, the last of whom tremble upon the verge of the tomb; 
the statesman, the divine and the scholar, of our generation, will soon 
follow them; their mantles are silently descending to their sons, and 
many of you, gentlemen, will, I trust, be found among their succes- 
sors. A glorious inheritance awaits the youth of this day. You will 
be the citizens of the greatest and freest country on the globe; to 
yoiir guidance will be entrusted the destinies of a mighty nation; to 
your keeping will be committed the sacred inheritance which includes 
all the great elements of a people's welfare — their industry, their 
science, their literature, their arts, their laws, and their religion. 

The hopes of all the civilized world are fixed upon America. Al- 
ready has the example of our young nation given an impulse to the 
cause of freedom in foreign lands. All the nations of Europe have 
felt the influence of our free institutions. As the mariner, tempest 
tost, is guided by the polar star, the friends of liberty throughout the 
world, look with confidence to us; and amid the storms of war and 
anarchy., amid the darkness of superstition, ignorance and despotism, 



173 

hail the light that is burning here, as the orb which shall direct them 
to a destiny as propitious as our own. G-entlemen, what America is 
to the world, the youth of America are to their country. 

Before you, then, may with propriety be discussed those principles, 
upon which depend the welfare of our republic, 

I shall not now detain you by insisting, as a general proposition, 
upon the importance of education. I shall assume that it is the mosteffi' 
cient of all the means which tend to rational greatness and individual 
prosperity/. I shall presume that I am addressing an intelligent assem- 
bly, whose minds are sufficiently impressed with the fact, that in a 
free country whsre all vote; where every man may be a candidate for 
every office; where public sentiment is the origin and efficient agent 
of all legislation; where laws, customs, and morals, emanate from the 
uncontrolled will of the people; national prosperity will be found to 
bear an exact proportion to the virtue and the knowledge with which 
the public mind shall be imbued. In such a country the laws will be 
pure and wise, the population prosperous and happy, so long as the 
citizen shall understand his rights, and conscientiously feel the re- 
sponsibility of his duties — so long as industry, the useful arts, and the 
domesVic virtues shall be cherished, and the minds of the people shall 
be deeply impressed with the principles of an expansive benevo- 
lence, which embraces goodwill to all men, and reverence for the laws 
of God, 

The only prominent difference of opinion which prevails on this 
subject, has respect to the means to be employed to produce the de- 
sirable effects to which I have alluded, I pretend not to indicate the 
details of any system, but shall offer a few general propositions in 
support of what I believe to be the great desideratum. 

I shall contend that knowledge, to exert a beneficial tendency, 
must be of th« useful kind; and that it must be disseminated widely, 
freely, universally. Like the atmosphere, it must circulate through- 
out the whole population; like the genial rays of the sun, it must light 
up the mountain and the valley, gladden the forest and the plain, pen- 
etrate the dwelling of the wealthy and the cottage of the laboring poor, 
dispelling from the face of the whole land the mists of prejudice, and 
the dark night of ignorance, and every where quickening into life the 
latent germs of intellect. 

In the attainments of the mind, as in most other acquisitions, there 
is a difference between the useful and the ornamental; there is a point, 
on the one side of which will be found that which is valuable, be- 
■cause it may be applied to an useful purpose; on the other hand, that 
which is appreciated as a source of enjoyment. Both conduce to the 
happiness and the dignity of man; but the one is necessary, the other 

•23 



in 

mperjluous. The one is useful knowledge, the other mere refinement; 
without the latter, man may exhibit the noblest attributes of the hw- 
man character; but destitute of the former, he scarcely rises to the 
dignity of a reason able creature. 

The most rejined nations have not been the most virtuous. The-y 
have not been eminently happy in their social relations, nor have 
their institutions been permanent. Greece and Rome had their ora- 
tors, poets, sculptors, and historians. They carried the military art to 
a high degree of perfection. In elegant literature, and in the culti- 
vation of the imaginative powers, they have never been excelled: 

*By Homer taught, the modern poet sings.' 

The record of their greatness is inscribed upon tablets more durable 
than brassj the barbarian has trampled in vain upon their tombs; their 
palaces and temples have mouldered away, but their history is fresh- 
ly remembered by the scholar, and the triumphs of their genius are 
proudly, fondly cherished in re.ccollection, as unerring proofs of the 
perpetuity of the finer creations of the mind. 

Yet these nations did not realize the truth of the proposition, which 
assumes, that the intelligence of the people is the conservative prin- 
ciple of a government. The reasons are obvious. The people were 
woHntelligent. Knowledge was not diffused. The cultivation of the 
mind extended only to a small portion of the whole population, and 
did not exert its ameliorating and ennobling influence over the whole 
mass of intellect. JNor was the knowledge of the ancients of an useful 
character. The sciences were not brought to bear upon the domestic 
arts. Knowledge was not made subservient to the business of life; 
commerce nor agriculture were not aided by its discoveries, it did not 
awaken the latent energies of the mechanic arts; it did not cherish 
the industry of m.an: it added nothing to the comforts- of the citizen, 
nothing to the resources of the state. Above all, there was a levity 
of sentiment and conduct among those nations, and an absence of 
fixed principle, induced by the want of a pure religious faith. They 
practised the basest idolatry. Their mythology inculcated rice and 
folly. They were totally ignorant of the existence of the true God; 
nor had they the least idea of that sublime system of morals, which is 
taught only in the christian religion. Their systems of philosophy 
tended rather to degrade, than to elevate man; not one of them incul- 
cated a generous, noble, self-denying principle of mutual love and 
forbearance. They were warlike, fierce, and cruel; in prosperity lux- 
urious and insolent; in adversity, rushing with a cowardly despair to 
the dismal refuge of suicide: in power, they were tyrants; as citizens, 
factious, and difficult to govern. However we may admire their 



MR. hall's ADDRESS. 175 

i^nras, we cannot approve their principles, or concede to them the 
character of a well-instructed people. 

The same facts, with a slight exception, are true of the modern Ital- 
ians. They have excelled in the fine arts, and cultivated every depart- 
ment of polite letters. But their acquisitions have not been turned to 
any useful purpose. The people have not been gainers by the acqui- 
sitions of the [earned. The useful arts, the industry, the social and 
domestic pursuits of the people have been but little assisted by the dis- 
coveries of science. They have had some learned men, and many 
poets; the mass of the people are painters, and fiddlers, robbers and 
lazaroni* 

France has been, and continues to be, the most refined of nations. 
In the fine arts, in polite letters, in the whole circle of elegant -accom- 
plishments, she stands without a rival. Her scholars are preeminent. 
In the advancement of all the accurate sciences, France has done 
more than any other nation. But knowledge has not been dissemi- 
nated among the people. And such is the fact throughout Europe. 
Literature, science, and the arts have been cherished with a noble 
spirit; but the benefits arising from liberal attainments, have been 
confined to a few classes of society, and to a few individuals, compar- 
ed with the national aggregate. The wealthy only, have been admit- 
ted to the fountains of knowledge^ the poor have been kept in servi- 
tude and ignorance. 

The experiment of instructing a whole population, has never yet 
been tried, upon an enlarged scale, in any other country than our 
own; because it has not become the interest of any other government 
to make an attempt. All the rest of the world is ruled by monarchs 
and aristocracies; and the people exist in an unnatural state of socie- 
ty,- to which ignorance of their rights, and of their power, alone indu- 
ces them to submit. Their rulers, from policy, discourage, rather than 
promote, the diffusion of knowledge^ because liberty advances side by 
side with intelligence, and whenever the mind becomes emancipated, 
the subject; of oppression indignantly tears his chains asunder; like the 
blind restored to sight, he receives a new sense and becomes capable 
of moving in a higher sphere. 

The learned too, have contributed to retard the spread of know- 
ledge. While the rich and powerful labored to secure their acquisi- 
tions from the encroachment of the humbler classes, the learned 
have been equally assiduous in their endeavors to monopolize the 
treasures of wisdom, to narrow the bounds of science, and to appropri- 
ate to a few the power which arises from intellectual superiority. 
Such, until very recently, has invariably been the history of learning. 
T^f^ priests of Egypt and Chaldea, who were supposed to have made 



176 MR. hall's address. 

Tery considerable progress in the discovery of science, were as ex* 
pert in the art of concealment, as in that of investigation; and by their 
symbolical writing, their systemic policy, and the air of mystery which 
they contrived to throw around them, they became invested with an 
awful sanctity which enabled them to govern princes and people. 
The Phcenician and Theban priests, the Indian gymnosophists, and 
the Persian magi, all had their secret mysteries artfully hidden from 
the profane eye of the vulgar; they wore the scholars and philosophers 
of their times; their secrets were those of science, and their power 
that of superior knowledge. The Jewish priesthood, in pursuance of 
the same policy, increased their own importance by the invention of 
a system of traditions, accessible only to the members of their own 
body. The ancient fathers, the lights of the primitive church, forming 
as it were, the connecting link between the heathen and the christian 
world, deeply imbued with the learning and the superstition of past 
ages, while the dawn of a brigther day was bursting upon their vision 
. — they too, unhappily, adopted an error, which like an incurable dis- 
ease, had infected and palsied the human intellect throughout every 
period of its development; and under what they termed the 'discipline 
of the secret,' artfully concealed from the world, the knowledge which 
they covertly taught to their own disciples. The Rosicrusians, the 
Alumni, the Freemasons, and other secret orders, which took their 
rise in Europe, in the dark ages which preceded the revival of learn- 
ing, only imitated the example of the heathen philosopher and the 
christian father, in concealing, under mystic rites and symbols, those 
abstruse and difficult attainments which were thought valuable in pro- 
portion to their rarity, and were considered not suitable aliment for 
the public mind — 'lest the vulgar,' says the learned St. Basil, 'should 
pass from being accustomed to them, to the contempt of them.' The 
Romish church embraced the same system; and continues to this day 
to demand respect for those treasures of knowledge which she care- 
fully conceals from her submissive followers, as the veiled prophet of 
Khoi'assan, hid his visage from the blind worshippers, who were pros- 
trated in the dust at his feet. Thus we see, that the aristocracy, in one 
shape or another, the desire of the educated few to rule the unedu- 
cated many, has been the most powerful engine in the suppression of 
knowledge. 

Not only have nations advanced slowly in the cultivation of the in- 
tellect, but they have proceeded by regularly marked gradations. In 
the first stage of civilization, the imaginative faculties of the mind 
have been exercised and improved. Savages are eloquent; and the 
first flight of genius, soaring above the atmosphere of mere sensual 
existence, is into the bright regions of poetry and romance. The fine 



MR. hall's address. 177 

arts succeed, with all the refinements of taste, elegance, and luxury. 
The mind, newly awakened to the consciousness of its powers, burst- 
ing as it were, into a new life, riots in the enjoyment of intellectual 
youth. It has emerged from its chrysalis, light-winged and beautiful; 
and no longer condemned to grovel upon the earth, bask in the sun- 
niest spot, and revels on the gaudiest flower. Such were the pur- 
suits of Greece and Rome. To the herdsman and the hunter, suc- 
ceeded the warrior, the orator, the poet, the sculptor, the architect, 
the musician. Splendid edifices were reared; games were instituted; 
the ear was charmed with the melody of sweet sounds, and the palled 
appetite feasted to satiety upon exquisitely prepared exotic viands. 
Luxury, and the fine arts, have been found associated; not on account 
of any necessary dependence on each other, but because they are 
both the offspring of the same state of the public mind; a sensual con- 
dition, in which, although the imagination is made the agent, the bo- 
dily senses are to be indulged. Greece and Rome fell; leaving behind 
them the broken vessels of pleasure, the tattered decorations of vo- 
luptuousness, the splendid fragments of an intellectual feast. And so 
will ever fall the nation or the individual, who prostitutes genius, the 
noblest gift of a beneficent Creator, by making it the minister of sor- 
did pleasure. 

Advancing in the culture of the mind, the next step brings us to 
that state of national improvement, where the useful arts are cultiva- 
ted; where the latent energies of agriculture, commerce and mechan- 
ics are awakened; where the rights of property and person are recog- 
nized, and the disciplined faculties of the mind are made subservient 
to the business of life. This is the age of science, discovery, and in- 
vention. And lastly, we arrive at the education of the heart; at that 
period, when nations discover that the beautiful structure of mental 
discipline may be rendered permanent by founding it on a rock, and 
laying its foundations in the deep bosom of the soul, which is itself 
eternal; when they learn that man is a self-governing creature, the 
brightest purpose of whose education is only attained, when his pas- 
sions and affections are trained, his conscience enlightened, and his 
mind prepared for the business of life, by being richly stored with the 
facts and truths of useful knowledge. 

And here, permit me to remark, how admirably this process corres- 
ponds with the natural development of a single mind. In youth, the 
imagination is bright; the passions ardent; the heart devoted to the 
pursuit of pleasure. There is poetry and love and music in the young 
bosom. With manhood, the sphere of being widens, and the matur- 
ed judgment points the way to more dignified pursuits. The cares 
and the wants of hfe stimulate to exertion. The views of man be- 



178 MR. hall's address. 

come practical; and his energies are directed to some purpose of na- 
tional good, of benevolent action, or of self-aggrandizement. But 
when the heat and burthen of the day is past, and the heart begins to re- 
pose in the mellow sunset of life, there is a season of salutary reflec- 
tion* It looks back upon the season of life, and learns to correct, to 
repent and to forgive. If the affections are less ardent they are kind- 
er and more expansive. The heart has connected itself with other 
hearts, by a hundred ties; children, relatives, and friends have accu- 
mulated around, pouring in their tribute of iove, multiplying the ob- 
jects of ajfFection, and opening new channels by which the tide of gen- 
erous feehng may flow out upon the world; while the fast receding 
scenes of this life, and the near approach of another state of existence, 
invites the soul to commune with the God who made it. 

Thus do individuals, as well as nations, proceed by an inverted or- 
der, leaving to the last those acquisitions which are of the first impor- 
tance. Should I attempt to direct the footsteps of a young friend, I 
would say, first cultivate the heart; then train the body and the mind 
to usefulness; and lastly, if you have the time, the means, and the am- 
bition to render further acquisitions desirable, entwine the wreathes 
of fancy around the brow of wisdom, and embellish the manly vigor 
of truth and virtue, with all those accomplishments which may add to 
it, dignity and gracefulness and innocent enjoyment. 

My object, however, is not to address you on the subject of self-cul- 
tivation, but to appeal to you as young men, as those who shall soon 
direct public opinion, in behalf of the great cause of popular instruc- 
tion. The propriety of educating the mass of the people has ceased 
to be a problem. Theory and speculation have been exhausted, and 
the whole matter is now placed in a fair train of experiment. The 
value of knowledge has been demonstrated in its surprising effects 
upon every department of human industry, in its ennobling influence 
upon the heart, and in its meliorating bias upon national character. 
It has given new energy to mind and increased strength to physical 
power; it has invigorated morals and religion, by rendering duty a ra- 
tional principle, instead of a blind impulse; it has sweetened the joys 
of the social circle, and elevated the tone of national intercourse. 
Benevolence and peace are among its choicest fruits. The artificial 
distinctions of rank are fast crumbling away beneath its genial atmos- 
phere; and frigid selfishness is melting under its kindly beams. We 
are no longer afraid to trust the people with their own rights; to allow 
them to enter upon their inheritance; to give up to them the possession 
.of knowledge, and the consequent exercise of power, which is their 
birthright. To educate the people has become a sacred duty. But it 
is a duty which requires to be directed by dispassionate thought, and 



MR. hall's address. 179 

disinterested motive. We have seen that there is a false refinement 
which may be mistaken for useful knowledge; and that there is a ten- 
dency in extensive mental attainment, as in great wealth, to raise its 
possessor above his fellow-creatures, and render him callous to their 
rights. As we have broken down the entail of estates, and the inhe- 
ritance of political power, leaving wealth and office within the reach 
of all who have sufficient industry to grasp them; so have we thrown 
wide open the treasuries of wisdom — the rich accumulations of long 
ages of experience. Still it requires thought, union, and effort, on 
the part of enlightened men, to regulate the circulation of this wealth, 
to banish the counterfeit, and send forth the pure coin, and to diffuse 
the rich stream with a hberal and an impartial profusion over the 
whole land. 

One of the distinguishing characteristics of the present age, is the 
manner in which the efforts of individuals are united and concentra- 
ted, for the purpose of effecting any object which such individuals 
deem beneficial. The principle has long been understood, and was 
illustrated among the ancients b} the fable of the bundle of twigs; 
which, when taken singly, might be easily broken, but when bound 
together, were capable of resisting the action of a powerful force. 
The principle, as applicable to mechanics, was too obvious not to be 
detected in the earliest discoveries of art; and accordingly, we find 
that the lever, the wedge, or the pulley, is nothing more than an ac- 
cumulation of power upon a single point. As art advanced, and in- 
genious combinations began to be invented, the aggregation of sever- 
al distinct powers in one machine, al! brought into harmonious action, 
and made to operate together in producing the desired effect was the 
consequence; and in examining any ingenious piece of mechanism 
now, we do not discover any new powers, but only a novel combina- 
tion of those which have long been known. Matter had always the 
same properties which it now has. The same principle is true of hu- 
man nature. The bodily and mental powers of man have been al- 
ways as perfect as they now are; but they have not always been di- 
rected by the same ingenuity which now governs human action. 

In military affairs, this principle is beautifully exemplified. The 
Macedonian phalanx was a compact body of men, regularly arranged, 
and closely compacted, with their shields interlocked, and their 
spears protruded on every side. They formed a body so nearly solid, 
that a shock upon any part, vibrated through the whole. It was as 
firm as the walls of a fortress, with the advantage of being capable of 
motion. So too, the Roman legion, though lighter, was also a com- 
pact body; and a number of those legions, united together, and giving 
impulse to each other, like the different parts of a machine, pro- 



l80 3IR. HALLOS ADDRESS. 

duced an aggregate force, capable of being weilded by one controU 
ling mind, and directed to the production of a particular effect. 

The principle is too obvious to require any great minuteness of il- 
lustration. It pervades every department of human effort. If a great 
effect is desired to be produced, we add force to force, and power to 
power, bringing all to bear steadily upon the point of resistence. The 
weight which one m.an cannot move, is rised by the united efforts of 
many; the great oak of the forest, which is uninjured by a single 
stroke of the ax, is felled to the ground by repeated blows. 

It is on\^ in modern times that the same principle has been avow- 
edly applied, as such, to moral powers and agents. It has always been 
understood: families have united for their mutual protection and ad- 
vantage; and weak states have combined to resist the oppression of 
powerful empires. But we are speaking now of the operations of 
moral agents upon the intellectual world; or in other words, of a di- 
rect operation upon the public mind, by the united efforts of individu- 
als. It was left for this age, to witness the most beautiful experiment 
upon the human mind, which the world has ever beheld. Heretofore, 
religious opinions have been enforced under the edge of the sword; 
science, literature, and the arts have been fettered by authority; and 
political faith regulated by the edicts of power. Physical power was 
the great agent in the moral, as well as in the physical world. Revo- 
lutions in opinion, as well as in government, were produced by vio- 
lence. But now it is understood, that mind must be directed by mind; 
and that every weight placed by power upon intellect and conscience, 
is a fetter which violates natural right, and enfeebles the power of mo- 
ral action. The effort, therefore, of the present age, is to cultivate 
the intellect of man; to purify and elevate public sentiment; to give 
freedom and aright direction to thought; and to effect these objects by 
argument and persuasion, by a fair exhibition of truth, and a zealous 
dissemination of instructive facts. 

It is equally well understood, that the means must be proportionate 
to the end. They must be copious, and their action must be incessant. 
The hardest rock is perforated by the continual dropping of the parti- 
cles of water; and the waves of the ocean, rolling daily, for ages, upon 
the shore, give shape and beauty and polish to the pebble. 

In the prosecution of this noble design, the friends of benevolence 
have resorted to the principle at which I have hinted; and have en- 
deavored to give vigor, unity, and body to their plans, by engaging 
in them a large number of individuals, and a vast amount of means. 
The objects of these societies have been as grand, as their means and 
exertions have been gigantic. I need not recapitulate them. You, 
gentlemen, have united as a band of brothers to preserve the recol- 



MR. hall's address. 181 

lection of the friendship and the studies of youth, and to promote 
through life the cause of letters, to which you are so greatly indebted. 
Allow me to press upon you that principle of united exertion, that 
unity of purpose and feeling, which I have suggested as the vital 
power of al' great designs; and to urge you, in the name of your coun- 
try, to bring your individual and collective influence to bear vigorous- 
ly upon the important national concern of popular instruction. It is 
a subject of absorbing interest. Had I a voice of thunder, and the per- 
suasive language of eloquence, I could, cheerfully spend my days in 
appealing to every patriotic heart in this republic, in behalf of the ne- 
glected rights of a large portion of my countrymen. The genial light 
of education should be made to illumine every dwelling, and enlighten 
every mind. Its benefits should at least be brought within the reach 
of all who -might choose to embrace them. Under no other proposition 
can we be said to enjoy that equality of rights, which is guarantied by 
our free institutions. To be educated is as much the privilege of 
the citizen, as to be protected; and as well might our legislature limit 
the. operation of law to a favored district of country, or shut the paths 
to office against a proscribed class of society, as to deny to any, access 
to the fountains of knowledge. It is as much a violation of principle 
to omit to educate the ignorant, as to neglect to sustain the sick; in 
either case, the wealthy will take- care of their own households; the 
indigent appeal to their country. There is no equality of rights where 
there is not some parity of intelligence. Theoretically, all men are 
equal; but in point of fact, those whose minds are cultivated, exert the 
greatest influence in society. Every citizen may vote, and may in- 
struct the public servants; but how shall one man instruct another on 
a subject which he does not understand] or who will dictate those in- 
structions, if a few are Capable and well informed, and the many ig- 
norant and unenlightened] If we condemn an aristocracy where 
power is exercised in right of birth, or wealth, must we not, on the 
same principle, condemn an aristocracy of knowledge? For knowledge 
is power; and in any country where a few are educated, and the great 
mass of the people ignorant, the uninstructed many will be governed 
by the enlightened minority. I am aware that this is an unpalatable 
fact; the ignorant man is unwilling to acknowledge, even to himself, 
that his mind is swayed by that of superior intelligence. But I stand 
here, not to flatter my audience, but to proclaim the truth. Every 
nian, too, may aspire to office. But there are few offices which can 
be filled by men who are unable to read and write; because reading 
and writing are necessary to the transaction of business. An illiterate 
man, in public or in private business, is always acting at his peril, and 

24 



182 

in danger of being misled by those to whom he must resort for infor* 
mation. The citizen, therefore, who cannot read, is deprived of a 
privilege, because he is ineligible to the offices which should be open 
to alL 

Let us now inquire what are the means and the amount of means 
necessary for a system of public instruction. The people are awake 
to the subject — the pecuniary resources of the country are ample — 
the great point to be gained, is to demonstrate the value of education 
by rendering it solid and useful. Our systems of education need to be 
purified and enlarged. Instead of the destructive policy which has 
been pursued, of narrowing and cheapening education, the whole 
system of popular instruction needs to be built up; and the skeleton to 
which it has been wasted, by the parsimonious spirit of the times, 
swelled out to its legitimate magnitude and gracefulness. Let our 
schools be such as to communicate profitable attainment, and they will 
recommend themselves. It is imagined by many, that a system of 
common schools, for teaching the elementary branches of an English 
education, is all that is required. I hold this to be a popular mistake, 
arising from want of reflection. Primary schools are necessary and 
indipensable. They form of themselves a noble institution. There 
should be common schools, in which every child in the state might 
obtain the rudiments of an education — schools, supported by the pub- 
lic, and cherished proudly, as among the noblest of our political insti- 
tutions, 'fyit common schools alone, will not educate the people. 
They are totally inadequate to supply the wants of the country. They 
furnish neither the kind nor the amount of instruction necessary to a 
comp'ete system. They teach little more than the arts of reading and 
writing, which arts are not knowledge, but only the means by which 
knowledge may be acquired and communicated; and the young mind, 
thirsting for improvement, needs a more ample provision to satisfy its 
ambition, to enlarge its faculties, and elevate its range of thought. 
The people of the west should not be satisfied with any system which 
is not complete. They should not be content that the youth of states 
so favored by nature, and destined to hold so high a place in the fed- 
eral union, should be stinted in any of the intellectual advantages, 
which are so liberally enjoyed by some of our sister republics. We 
are proud of our country; let us be too proud to be inferior to others in 
the liberality of our public institutions. The time will soon arrive, 
when the greatness of our population and the wealth of our resour- 
ces will attract attention; but may the day never come, when the 
beautiful, the fertile, the high-spirited west, shall be more respected 
for the number of her votes, than for the wisdom, intelligence, and. 
moral energy of her people! 



MR. hall's address. 183 

In those states where the means of instruction have been most ef- 
fectually applied, public education is conducted through the medium 
of primary schools, academies, and colleges or universities. All these 
are necessary, and as I apprehend, equally necessary to the existence 
of a complete system; because, without them, a youth cannot acquire 
a liberal education. Without them, you cannot raise up men to fill 
the liberal professions, to adorn the scientific departments, to serve in 
posts of high trust, or even to prosecute many of the useful arts which 
are necessary to public wealth and private comfort. How different 
would have been the condition of the great state of New York, had 
not the gigantic mind of a Clinton brought to the direction of her pub- 
lic aflfairs a more than ordinary amount of acquired knowledge, and 
wielded the resources of the country, with an extent and accuracy of 
skill, which could only have been the result of laborious study! And 
what would have been our condition, had not the invention of the 
steam engine, and the construction of roads and canals^ given activity 
to the trade, and employment to the industry of our country! A few 
years ago, we were separated from the Atlantic States by a range of 
mountains scarcely accessible, except to the foot of the nimble deer, 
or the active hunter; and we found access to the ocean by the mean- 
ders of a long river, with boats, slowly propelled by human labor. 
There was a day when the politicians of our country pronounced, 
with the grave authority of oracles, that the Allegheny mountains 
formed the natural boundaries of the union, consigning the fair regions 
that we inhabit, to the dominion of the savage, or the grasp of a 
foreign conqueror. But that which political sagacity pronounced 
hopeless, has been effected by the energy of a brave people, aided by 
the application of scientific principles. The civil engineer, by con- 
structing roads and canals, has enabled us to pass with ease, the bar- 
riers that were once thought insurmountable, and the genius of Ful- 
ton, displayed in the application of steam, has advanced us to a state 
of prosperity which we might not have attained for hundreds of years 
without this advantage. Thus do the discoveries and inventions of 
science promote the arts and industry of Hfe — thus do they anticipate 
time, annihilate distance, and give to educated man a, proud pre-emi- 
nence over his unenlightened fellow-creatures! And shall not the 
west aspire to raise up her Clintons and her Fultons? May we not 
look forward to the day when the eloquent sons of Ohio shall win ap- 
plause upon the floor of Congress? Shall not our schools and colleges 
give nurture to the genius of a Marshall or a Franklin? May not the 
day arrive, when a native of this soil shall preside over the concerns 
of the nation, and a historian of our own record the perilous adven= 



184 am. hallos addresst. 

turesofthe pioneer'? Shall we deny to ourselves the luxury of sucfr 
proud anticipations— shall we thwart the destiny of our youth by with- 
holding the means of their advancement, the elements of their useful- 
ness, their power, and their glory! 

I do not wish to be understood as asserting it to be necessary for ev- 
ery youth in the country to receive a liberal education. Some might 
not desire itj and many might not be able to spare from other pursuits 
the time necessary for its acquisition. I only assume that an equal op- 
portunity should be afforded to each; that the doors of science should 
be thrown wide open, and that all should have free access. We 
should educate our youth in our own state; and to do this, it isiieces- 
sary that any system which we adopt, should be carried out to the 
highest point of excellence. A large portion of our young men will 
desire to receive liberal educations, and if they cannot get them at 
home, they must be sent to other states, carrying out of our country 
large sums of money, and bringing back such attainments, and such 
sentiments, as foreigners may -be pleased to confer on them. 

But we are sometimes told, that colleges and academies are only 
required to educate the sons of the rich. Never was a proposition 
more untrue — never was a principle advanced, more fatal to the in- 
terest of indigent talent. It is for the children of poverty I plead, 
when I implore you to give your influence to the building up of nur- 
series of learning in your own land. The rich man can send his son 
abroad, ^Liid he will send him, in defiance of every obstacle; while his poor* 
er neighbor, if the means of education are not brought within his reach, 
must be content to see his children deprived ofits advantages. The 
consequence would be, that every post of honor in your country, every 
employment which requires the aid of science, all the liberal profes- 
sions, every path to honor which invites the ambition of a young and 
generous soul, would be filled by the sons of the wealthy, or by the 
young men from other states. Is this the policy of a wise people? 
Would it be just to ourselves, our children, or our country? If you 
look back upon the history of the United States, you will find that the 
men who have filled the largest space in the public eye, who have been 
most useful and most honored, have risen from the humblest rank of 
life. They were not cradled in affluence, nor introduced to the con- 
fidence of an admiring people, by the patronizing hand of wealth. 
Franklin, Monroe, Crawford, Pinckney, Webster, Jackson, Clay, 
Calhoun, Wirt, Van Buren, and a host of others of high name, all 
rose from obscure parentage. But they are all accomplished, educa- 
ted men. Those who undervalue education, commit a great mistake 
when they select such individuals as examples of the little value of 
scholastic attainmenls, and point toone of them, when they tellyou with 



I 



185 

accents of triumph, *that man was never within the walls of a college!* 
Let it be remembered, that such persons are always men of great at- 
tainments. It matters not where they were educated; they stand for- 
ward, the bright and glorious monuments of the power of knowledge. 
Those. who are called self-made men, are not ignorant. They have 
not risen to distinction without a more than ordinary degree of men- 
tal cultivation; and the only difference between them aJid other stu- 
dents, is, that they have laboriously explored, by the solitary midnight 
lamp, the same pages which have been opened for you in the college 
edifice. Such men are not only educated, but they are highly educa- 
ted; and they rise to pre-eminent distinction because they have pur- 
sued knowledge with unusual ardor and success. Talents are not 
hereditary; they belong to no favored class; and are as often found in 
the cottage as in the palace . The only difference is in the cultivation. 
Education is the handmaid of talent. She seeks her favorites with 
an impartial eye. . She takes the child of genius from the abodes of 
poverty, kindles up a noble ambition in his young heart, conducts him 
safely through the laborious paths of study, pours into his thirsty mind 
the stores of wisdom, and at last gives him to his country, fitted to 
serve her in some station of usefulness, or post of honor. I am sup- 
ported by the records of all the colleges in the United States, in the 
assertion, that a large number of those, who prosecute their studies 
in such seminaries, are young men of scanty means, many of whom 
earn their own subsistence, and defray the expenses of their educa- 
tion, by their own labor. And it is equally true, that those who thus 
court the smiles of knowledge with a lover's fervor, most usually obtain 
the prize, and are generally distinguished in after life for their useful 
talents, and their solid learning. 

Seminaries of learning of the higher class are indispensably ne- 
cessary to the existence of a system of common schools. You need 
the former to educate teachers for the latter. Primary schools,, con- 
ducted by incompetent teachers, accomplish none of the iniportant 
ends" of education; they baulk, disgust, and disappoint the child; they 
mock the hopes, and frustrate the intention of the parent. A system 
of common schools, unconnected with higher seminaries, would be 
an edifice erected upon sand; like a limb severed from the body that 
sustains it, they would perish for want oftheHfe blood, flowing warm 
from the fountains of nourishment. 

I have not time to dwell on this branch of the subject. It would 
require a volume to demonstrate its importance. The members of 
this society have already realized the value of education; they will 
rally round the colleges and high schools of our land; and if there are 
others in this assembly who are parents, citizens, legislators, to them 



186 MB. hall's address. 

also would I appeal. I address myself to the young and to the old, 
in behalf of the highest interest of our common country. If you wish 
to encourage the liberal arts, to promote useful inventions, to have 
men of intelligence to direct your affairs, you must provide facilities 
for giving to your young men liberal educaiions. It is not enough to 
teach them to read. This is an object beneath the ambition of a great 
state. You should aim to emulate the proudest of your sister states 
and enlist your sons in the ranks of patriotism, w]th equal advantages 
for promotion. It is honorable to labor in the humblest post of useful- 
ness; but condemn not the children of your own soil to toil forever in 
the ranks, while others may aspire-to be leaders. Among your sons 
may be many who possess talents of the brightest order; consign them 
not to ignorance and labor, while others, by the magic power of edu- 
cation, may be fitted to aspire to the choicest gifts of fame and fortune- 
Poverty is no disgrace, labor is no discredit; but it is a misfortune and 
a discredit to any people, to bury the talent and smother the ambi- 
tion of their children. They belong to their country — their parents 
are but their guardians; they belong lo their country and their God — 
they are yours but a little while — a few brief years of parental author- 
ity may be succeeded by a long life, and will certainly be followed by 
a longer eternity. It is your task to prepare them for their duties as 
men and as citizens, as fathers and as christians. 

I have spoken to you, gentlemen, of the education of those who will 
sway the sovereign power of our country; allow me to suggest, that 
an equally important topic, is the education of that sex, who will train 
up its citizens, and rule its rulers. It is a subject which appeals with 
equal force to your reason, and with even greater tenderness to your 
affections. Why should the fairer sex be neglected in all our systems 
of public instruction! Not only does her weakness claim protection, 
but the duties of woman in the business of life, are as solemn and as 
important as those of man. To her loveliness and virtue, to her fidel- 
ity and tenderness, are we indebted for all the social comforts, and 
the hallowed enjoyments of society and home. On her we lean in ad- 
versity, in sickness, and in sorrow; her faithful bosom is the sacred 
repository of our most secret thoughts; it is her love that renders life 
a blessing, and home a paradise. She is the nurse of helpless infan- 
cy, the companion of joyous youth, the friend of maturer years, the 
staff of old age, true to all her duties, faithful to every dictate of affec- 
tion. "When the clouds of adverse fortune lower upon the path of 
friendless man — when all others are faithless — when a cold world, for- 
getful of the kindly charities of heaven, of nature and the heart, frowns 
on the child of adversity, the purer and the holier sympathies of wo- 



MR. hall's A.DDRESS. 187 

mau, cling with unabated fervor round his fallen fortunes. Under all 
changes, she is true 

As the sun-flower turns to her god when he sets, 
The same look that she gave when he rose. 

And shall we neglect the wellbeing of those who are so dear to our 
hearts, so faithful to our interests'? How often are they thrown 
defenceless upon the cold charity of the world! How often is the 
helpless widow, or the orphan girl, compelled to labor with her own 
hands, for her own subsistence! Incapable of the severe toils of 
manhood, and excluded from the ordinary paths to wealth and honor, 
how hard the lot, how hapless the condition, of an unprotected wo- 
man! But there are labors, which she may perform; there are arts 
suited to the weakness and dehcacy of her frame; there are depart- 
ments of industry and science, in which she may be rendered inde- 
pendent, and useful, and respected. And there is another' point of 
view in which the interest of our fair country-women may be regard- 
ed as closely interwoven with the destiny of their country. They are 
the sisters, and the wives, and the mothers of freemen. From the 
lips of a tender mother, the young patriot first learns the lesson of de- 
votion to his country; from her tongue, in the secret hour, when no 
eye beholds them, he first learns the history of his being, the nature 
of his moral relations to his fellow man, and the precepts of that reli- 
gion, which is the only safe guide to his faltering steps, either as a 
citizen of this world, or a traveller to a better. It is she who gives 
the first and the most lasting impression to the human mind. So true 
and so universal is this principle, that in tracing back the origin of 
great men, who have risen to eminence from humble circumstances, 
yoa will scarce find one whose young ambition was not fanned into 
existence by the teaching of a faithful mother. 

I need not detain you longer, to illustrate the importance of female 
influence. It is seen in every family, and felt in every bosom. Let 
this state be among the first to place a proper estimate on the value of 
female education. Extend to them the advantages that will render 
them intelligent as they are useful, and wise as they are lovely; and 
let the praise of your country be in the spirit of that written on the 
tomb of an English matron, that *all her sons were brave, and all her 
daughters virtuous.' 

After all, the great object to be attained, is the universal diffusion 
of knowledge among the people. A system ,of schools and seminaries 
for the instruction of youth, is one of the means for accomplishing this 
end; it is the noblest, perhaps the most powerful, of moral engines. 
And the day,* I trust, is not far distant, when the business of teaching 



188 MR. hall's address. 

youth, will be numbered among the learned professions — when pro- 
fessors and teachers of every grade, shall study as a science, the art 
of communicating knowledge, and governing the young mind, and 
shall devote their lives to this honorable vocation — and when they 
shall be cherished, honored, and rewarded, as public benefactors. 
But there are other means which should not be neglected. The 
great objectto be effected, is the circulation of usefulknowledge. This 
may be attained to some extent, by the establishment of lyceums for 
the delivery of public lectures upon useful subjects, by the circulation 
of books and periodicals, and by various other expedients which are 
the invention of modern times. The result to- be desired is, not to 
build up a few nurseries of science, in which a small number of fa- 
vored individuals shall, like plants in a hot-bed, be cherished into 
precocious vigor, and shoot up into mental life, and foliage and beau- 
ty, while the great mass of the intellect of the state, shall remain un- 
cultivated, and chilled by the atmosphere of ignorance; but that 
knowledge^ like the solar light, shall be diffused over the whole sur- 
face of society, quicken all the germs of intellect, and produce every- 
where its beautiful flowers and its rich fruit. 

The great mistake, as I apprehend, which the people of this coun- 
try are committing, is in relying too much, and too long, upon the 
action of the legislature. The general assembly cannot perform im- 
possibilities. It cannot legislate education into existence, or circu- 
late intelligence among the people, according to the form of any 
statute to be in such case made and provided. It can devise a sys- 
tem of instruction and appropriate money towards its support; but 
this is all it can do. The people must take hold of the subject them- 
selves. Gentlemen must become interested. Public sentiment must 
be awakened; and those who feel the importance of the subject must 
concert plans, and concentrate their exertions. The people can do 
any thing that they resolve to do; they have schools and other means 
of instruction, to a considerable extent, even with our limited resour- 
ces, whenever the public mind shall be convinced that these things 
are essential to the honor of the state, and the best interest of the 
people. 

The first step to be taken, and the one without which I apprehend 
nothing ever will be done, is to furnish the public with correct 
information on the subject. Let the facts be collected and placed be- 
fore them. Let them see what is doing in other states and countries. 
Place in their hands the statistics of education. Collect for them the 
experience of other states. Let them see the whole system — its char- 
acter- its cost, and it« advantages. Do this, and the work is done. 



MR. hall's address. 189 

The subject is popular. Let the people be advised as to the means of 
securing the objects, and they will act with vigor. Place the evidence 
before them; let them have faith, and though obstacles rise like moun- 
tains in the way, there will be sufficient energy in the pubhc will to 
effect their removal. 

Let us never be satisfied until we shall have set in motion every en- 
gine which is capable of giving direction to public opinion. Let eve- 
ry moral agent be enlisted in the great cause of popular instruction. 
Let the benefits of schools and colleges be extended, let the press be 
enlisted, let the pulpit give its sanction, until the whole population, 
awakened to the importance of the subject, shall arise out of their leth- 
argy, and with a voice potential, call upon their rulers to educate the 
people! 

It is a mistaken opinion, if any indulge it. that education, literature j 
and knowledge, will flow into your state, without any special exer- 
tions for their introduction, by the mere force of circumstances. The 
pursuit of wealth, and the excitement of party feehng absorb the 
whole attention of the public, and a strenuous effort will be required, 
to overcome the demoralizing influence of selfishness and ambition. 

Equally groundless is the fond hope entertained by many, that the 
generation which is growing up will enjoy advantages superior to our 
own. It may, or it may not be so, as we shall determine. Why should 
the rising generation be more enlightened than their fathers'? What 
opportunities have they which we did not enjoy] The emigrants to 
this country came from older states, where civil institutions were com- 
pletely organized, where seminaries and schools were in full opera- 
tion, and where knowledge, like a rich stream, poured its blessing 
over the whole land. They came intelligent, and many of them edu- 
cated men. It is not so with our youth. Many of them have been born 
in the wilderness, and are growing up in secluded spots, where the 
school, the library,, and the lyceum, are alike unknown;, and where 
literary researches are confined chiefly to the bad wit and stale predic- 
tions of the almanac, or the corrupt slanders of profligate party news- 
papers. 

Nor is it enough that our successors should be equal to ourselves. 
They should excel us in mental cultivation. Systems of education 
have recently been much improved, and learning is now more easily 
and more cheaply obtained than at any former period, while the ac- 
quisitions of the student are of a more solid and useful character. 

The inducements to the higher branches of study are greater be- 
cause the unparalled advancement of the mechanic arts, and the mul- 
tiplication of labor-saving machinery, is every day reducing the propor- 
tional amount of human physical labor required in the business of life, 

25 



190 MR. hall's abuhess. 

and of course increasing the number of those who must be employed 
in intellectual pursuits. 

The whole circle of productive industry is becoming enlarged, and 
all the arts are elevated by the march of mind. The hourly increas- 
ing discoveries of science are engrafting themselves upon the agri- 
culture, the mechanics, and the manufactures of our country; and 
something more than mere muscular power will hereafter be required 
iii those respectable departments of national industry. The farmer 
and the mechanic will be obliged to fhink as well as work; and muss 
improve their own minds, in order to keep pace with the improve- 
ments and inventions of the age. 

The rapid strides of the great cause of popular education in other 
countries, should urge us to engage promptly in this great national 
enterprise. In Great Britain, and on the continent of Europe, the 
facilities for the instruction of youth are increasing with unexampled 
rapidity. In Belgium, Denmark, Prussia, Saxony, Sweden, Norway, 
Bussia and Tuscany, the governments have taken measures to intro- 
duce and support the systems of public schools. 

Schools are numerous at the Cape of Good Hope, in Madagascar, 
and in the islands as well as on the continent of India. 

The grand seignor takes a lively interest in the subject of educa- 
tion, and has taken the schools of Constantinople under hrs especial 
patronage. 

There is a college in Egypt, and another at Calcutta. 

In the island of Japan, almost every individual can read; and in the 
Sandwich islands, a larger proportion of the population are in the 
schools, than in any state of this union. 

These are but a few of the interesting facts, which might be addu- 
ced, to show that the schoolmaster is abroad; that the whole world is 
awakening from its lethargy; that the people are everywhere bursting 
the servile bonds of ignorance; that even kings are forced to yield to 
the supremacy of popular opinion; and that knowledge is becoming 
diffused. They should excite us to action, kindle up a patriotic ardor, 
and awaken a noble emulation. They should warn us to avoid re- 
lapsing into the apathy from which other nations are just beginning 
to awake; and admonish us, that unless we make a speedy and prompt 
effort to increase our schools, to improve our system of education, to 
purify the press., to elevate and cherish our literature, other nations 
will sweep past us in the noble race of intellectual competition* and 
we shall lose the proud preeminence as a people which we now boast. 

Those too, who shall succeed us, must act upon a far more exten- 
ded theatre of action, thari has fallen to our lot. We are but the pio- 
neers in advance of the main body. We direct the affairs of a young 



MR. hall's address. 191 

country — they must wield the matured energies of a great state* 
Where we deliberate upon the concerns of thousands, they must le- 
gislate for tens of thousands and for millions. With a territory of im- 
mense magnitude, fertile, and abounding in resources, beautiful and 
inviting to the eye, intersected by noble rivers, possessing every ad- 
vantage for commerce, agriculture, and manufactures, they will need 
all the aids of knowledge to fill with success the high stations of citi- 
zens and rulers. They must cherish agriculture, invigorate com- 
merce, encourage manufactures, invite useful inventions, construct 
public improvements, adorn and beautify the country, improve and 
elevate the people, 

I need hardly urge to you, gentlemen, the value of a sound and ele- 
gant literature, the promotion of which is one of the objects of your 
society. The subject connects itself inseparably with that which I 
have, attempted to discuss. The office of literature is to disseminate 
the results of genius and scholarship. There can be no national liter- 
ature without a sound and liberal national education. It is the busi- 
ness of education to train up both the author and the reader; to culti- 
vate in the one a taste for the elegant productions of the mind, to en- 
due the other with the power to gratify that taste. But, unhappily, 
the mercenary spirit of the age is such, that our youth, impatient of 
delay, and unwilling to v/ait that gradual development of the mind 
ordained by nature, plunge prematurely into the toils of manhood. 
They are satisfied with superficial attainments, which are rapidly ef- 
faced from the memory, because they have been procured without ef- 
fort, and are possessed without pride. The learned professions are 
crowded with illiterate men — Plutus, and not Apollo is the patron of 
the liberal arts — and the discovery seems to have been made, that the 
poetic maxim, nascilur nonjit, is equally applicable to every depart- 
ment of mental exertion. It was reserved to modern times to discov- 
er, that knowledge may be acquired, as miUtia officers imbibe the mil- 
itary art — by intuition; and that gentlemen may become lawyers, phy- 
sicians, divines, and authors, by assuming the title, and entering upon 
the duties. The most pernicious inventions of modern times, have 
been almost all those experiments in education, by which the natural 
development of the mind has been attempted to be anticipated, and 
the periods of study abridged; by which the infant has been decoyed 
from the maternal bosom into the school-room, to be fed upon the del- 
icate nourishment of the exact sciences; and the young gentleman, 
suddenly arrested midway in a career of generous emulation, torn 
from a course of delightful instruction and honorable study, and 
plunged prematurely into the demoralizing vortex of worldly busi- 
ness. 



193 MR. hall's address. 

Imperfect scholarship is the bane of literature; and if it is desirable 
that a pure taste for letters shall pervade the west, and that we should 
rear up a race of sound and vigorous writers, we must elerate the 
standards of education. And why should not the west have a litera- 
ture of her ownl why should not her sons exhibit the same genius, 
and attain the same eminence in classic pursuits, as iii the other paths 
of generous ambition] Patriots and warriors have already sprung 
from our soil. We have given a president to the nation; and an ora- 
tor, who has borne away the palm from all competitors, and upon 
whose accents listening senates have hung enraptured, was reared to 
greatness in this region. And shall we not also have our poets and 
historians'? We inhabit a country whose magnificent features are cal- 
culated to excite the imagination to its noblest flights. Wherever we 
gaze, there is vastness and beauty in the scene. The gigantic out- 
lines of the country, swell and widen around us in every direction j 
until the mind is lost in the hopeless attempt to combine, and grasp, 
and comprehend them in one connected view. The picture is too 
vast to be taken in at a single glance — for it embraces interminable 
forests, immense rivers, whose hidden sources are still unexplored 
in the distant wilderness, and plains, whi'ch to the traveller's eye, are 
only bouhded by the shadowy and far-seen horizon. Here too, the 
prolific bosom of nature exhibits a luxuriance unknown to less favor- 
ed lands; the earth teems with abundance, and the delighted eye re- 
vels upon the rich, the glowing, the various, the gorgeous hues, of 
the exuberant foliage. Our history is full of interest, freshness, and 
even romance. It is the history of a race of men of peculiar hardi- 
hood and independence, who thought with originality, and acted with 
vigor. It is a story of adventurous incident, and severe privation, 
which traces the hardy pioneer through paths beset with danger, and 
tells of days and nights of watchful courage, when every cabin was a 
fortress, every man, every woman, was a soldier. 

We have our antiquities, too — the relics, the tombs, the fortresses of 
a fallen people. We have a wide land, which is as yet unexplored; 
full of resources to be developed, of products to be described, and of 
moral deserts to be improved. May the day soon arrive, when our 
own scholars shall be the historians of our country, when the native 
poet shall celebrate the valor and the beauty of the west, when eve- 
ry mound and every battlefield shall be rendered classic ground, when 
virtue shall be strengthened, and patriotism instructed from the vol- 
umes of a national literature, and when the tender tale of love shall 
be sung in the *wood notes wild' of our own forests! 

Gentlemen, I have pleaded before you the cause of education. It is 
the cause of prudence and humanity, of virtue and religion, of your 



DR. DKAKe's AT>r)RESi5. 193 

country and your God. It stands recommended by the founders of 
your republic, sanctioned by the patriots of your country, comman- 
ded by the precepts of your faith. I appeal to you as the alumni of a 
college, as the members of a literary band united by an endearing title 
of affection, as the young citizens of a free country, as the future ru- 
ler, and father and christian — as you prize your own peace, as you 
value liberty, as you desire the smiles of approving heaven, I conjure 
you to devote you hearts to the great cause of popular education, and 
national literature! 

I know that I appeal to patriotic hearts. I need not ask you if you 
love your country. The brave men of the west have never faltered 
in the hour of danger. Never did the bugle blast sound in this region 
without awakening a responsive feeling in every bosom; and should 
it again bust upon our ears, every young heart would swell with 
courage. Thus prompt at the call of patriotism, should we be deaf to 
the gentler impulses of humanity] Ever ready to serve our country 
in the field, should we be less willing to promote her best interests in 
the hour of peace? My heart tells me, we shall not. We love our 
country, and our countrymen. We profess to be a generous and en- 
lightened people; hospitable to the stranger, true to each other, faith- 
ful to the duties of charity and friendship. We cannot be faithless to 
the ties of blood and nature — to the children of our own people! 



ADDRESS, 
BY DAIVIEL DRAKE, M. D. 



DELIVERED BEFORE THE UNION LITERARY SOCIETY OF MIAMI UNIVERSITY, 
AT THEIR ANNIVERSARY CELEBRATION, SEPTEMBER 23d, 1834. 

Gentlemen of the Union Literary Society, 

In appearing among classical scholars, within the walls of a uni- 
versity, as your orator on this academical occasion, I find myself in 
the situation of a Haw tree of the woods, left standing in the cleared 
ground, and planted about with foreign fruit trees. Being improved 
by grafting and the various labors of art. their products are savory, 
and by persons of good taste, are, of course preferred; but still the 
Haw is not useless, for it serves as a term of comparison, and shows 
the necessity and value of early cultivation. 
In consenting, at a late period, to supply the placeof the able ci- 



194 

vilian on whom you at first relied, I felt all the embarrassment that 
could arise from the consciousness of my incapacity to discuss a theme 
of pure literature; but I have, finally, chosen a topic which commends 
itself to my own feelings, and will not, I hope, be unacceptable to 
yours — it is the character, history, and prospects of the West. 

The aijcient and venerable maxim Know Thyself, has been gen- 
erally addressed to individuals, but is equally applicable to communi- 
ties; who should befamihar with the natural resources of their coun- 
try, and the genius and tendency of their social, literary, religious and 
political institutions; or they cannot cherish the good, and successful- 
ly cast out the evil. This self-knowledge of nations, is especially ne- 
cessary for one of recent origin, where every thing isstill green, and 
must be fashioned according to the skill of those who regulate its 
growth. 

Society in these Backw-qods, even in the most thickly settled parts, 
is but in its forming state; and we are, therefore, invited to scrutinize, 
with care, the principles which control its development; for other- 
wise its maturity may offer less of perfection, than is found in commu- 
nities which sprang up at an earlier period, instead of displaying, in 
its own strength and beauty, the beneficial fruits of their experience 
and. wisdom. 

It may be asked, however, whether, it is consistent with the peace 
and perpetuity of the Union, to inculcate a devotioa to one of its 
parts] I shall not give a general answer to this question, but reply, 
that a devotion to the West, is manifestly compatible with both_. and 
indeed the most efficient means of promoting both. This results 
from the geographical relations between "the Valley of the Mississippi 
and the Atlantic states; relations, which being founded on nature, 
cannot be dissolved by the hand of art, but are daily acquiring new 
strength, as the ligaments of.the body bind its different organs more 
closely together in each succeeding year of its natural growth. 

I do not propose, however, to go into the analysis of our young in- 
stitutions; but, in the spirit of the West, shall wander to and fro, ex- 
patiating on whatever may seem attractive, but still keeping within 
its ample bounds. 

The first thing which strikes our attention, is the difference between 
the opportunities for intellectual and moral improvement, in old and 
new states of society,, and their influence on the character of the 
people. 

As the flavor o^' the grape depends greatly on the soil by which it is 
nourished, so the temperament of individuals is modified by the intel- 
lectual aliment on which their minds subsist in childhood and youth; 
and of course, in studying national character, it isof great service to 



DR. Drake's address. 195 

know the different circumstances under which the people of differ- 
ent places have been educated. 

Children who are born in old and compactly organized communities 
are surrounded from infancy with all the means of improvement which 
the inventive genius of civilization can create. Books adapted to eve- 
ry age and all varieties of taste — established institutions of learning, 
from the infant school to the ancient and venerable university — pro- 
fessional teachers of eyery grade of erudition — ingenious toys, which, 
in the very creaking of their wheels, speak instruction — full cabinets 
of the works of nature and art — public lectures in lyceums — and laws 
of action, for the morning, noon and night of every day throughout 
the year, are but a part of the means of their education and discipline. 
They are thus made the objects of a sleepless superintendence; which 
not only supplies their minds with rich materials of thought, but lays 
down the rules by which their growth in intellect shall proceed. Ed- 
ucated under these advantages, they acquire a copious and varied 
learning, and exhibit, in manhood, a conformity more or less striking, 
to the standards of excellence which have been held up for their imi- 
tation. 

Most of what gives them this excellence, is either imperfect or 
entirely wanting, in a new country; but are there no. substitutes for 
these artificial advantages? 1 think there are several, and shall pro- 
ceed to offer some of them to your consideration, leaving it with your- 
selves to assign the value of each. 

Precious as may be the benefits which good establishments of learn- 
ing afford, they are not the only means of intellectual improvement; 
for the pathless wilderness may be made a school-book, and nature is 
the institution in which many of the ancients were chiefly educated, 
whose works of taste and genius, constitute an important part of your 
college course. It would be an error to say, that all children of the 
woods are thus instructed; for all are not educated where the best in- 
stitutions have been established; and many are incapable of being 
taught: but none, even for mere pastime, can roam oyer hill and dale, 
descend the precipice and stray in the cavern that opens underneath, 
wade through the matted herbage, and part the tangled bushes, with- 
out acquiring knowledge at every step, as the bee which buzzes round 
him, loads its limbs with the materiel of its cells, while it flits from 
flower to flower to feast upon their honey. To derive substantial ad- 
A'-antage from this intercourse with nature, the youth must give scope 
to his curiosity, and be fully aware that its gratification will bring a 
rich harvest of knowledge. He should, also, cultivate the faculty of 
observation; which, beyond every other, can be made to supply him 
with valuable information, in whatever situation he may be placed; 



196 DK. dRzVKe's address. 

and must be exercised early, or it will remain inactii^e and unprodue- 
tive through life. An acute and vigilant observer finds improvement 
in the smallest object or humblest event, as well as in those impres- 
sive phenomena, which only can arouse the attention of the dull and 
heedless. He suffers nothing to pass without inspection; and from 
habit connects all he sees, with the memory of something he has seen 
before. Even in his moments of deepest study, he glances at what 
surrounds him, and recognizes the new and curious; he unites con- 
templation with his observation, or passes from one to the other, with 
a facility that confounds those who cannot think, except they be se- 
cluded from every external influence. He supplies his mind with 
fresh materials of thought, instead of ruminating on the old; and nour- 
ishes it with food collected by himself, in place of what has passed 
through a hundred intellects, and been subjected to as many distinct 
concoctions; finally, he perceives new qualities, relations and func- 
tions, in the objects that lie along his path, and thusbecomes original 
and inventive. Indeed, with a small number of exceptions, every 
branch of knowledge and all the duties of life, call for the active and 
accurate exercise of this faculty; and the world has had but few dis- 
tinguished and useful men, in whom it was not cuhivatedand power- 
ful. The West as already intimated, presents an endless variety of 
new objects and operations, to stimulate and reward this faculty; and 
hence, our young men matj attain strength of intellect, and treasures 
of useful knowledge, although comparatively destitute of the means 
of academical instruction. Here then have been, and still are, a num- 
ber of sources of mental improvement, which may compensate, to a 
small extent, at least, for the want of those which abound in older na- 
tions. 

The extended limits of the West, and the broad navigable rivers 
which traverse it in every direction, exert on the mind that expand- 
ing influence, which comes from the contemplation of vast natural ob- 
jects; while the distant visits and long migrations, to which this con- 
dition invites, and the wide, reciprocal commerce, which it suggests 
and facilitates, perpetually call its inhabitants from place to place, 
opening new sourcesof observation, and establishing fresh and profit- 
able modes of intellectual communion. 

The want of those arts and inventions, by which the inhabitants of 
older countries accomplish their ends, renders it necessary for the peo- 
ple ofa new state, to invent and substitute others, as emergencies 
may arise; whereby their faculties arc strengthened, and a spirit of 
self dependence is awakened, which comes at length, to preside over 
all their actions. 

The many opportunities for bold enterprizc, compared with the pop- 



DK. drake's address. 197 

. ulation, which a new country presents, constitute a kindred source 
of improvement; for occasions call forth ingenuity, and where the 
mind is left free to execute its schemes according to its own sugges- 
tions, it becomes fertile in expedients, and even failure does not bring 
discouragement; while success inspires a taste for higher undertak- 
ings, and contributes to develop the power requisite to their achieve- 
ment. 

In old countries, the employments of men divide them into castes, 
and while each becomes distinguished in the business to which he is 
confined, and which he can seldom relinquish for any other, his 
mind is narrowed down to the limited circle of his employments, and 
like the rail-road car he moves always on the one path. But in a coun- 
try like the West, the same person is compelled to do many different 
things, and often tempted to change his pursuits. A high degree of 
perfection in aliy, is impracticable under this variety of objects; but 
the intellect, by such various training, expands in many directions, 
and the aggregate of its powers, is greater than when it is compelled 
to extend itself in one only. 

In a new country, the restraints employed by an old social organi- 
zation, do not exist — the government of fashion is democratic — and 
a thousand corporations, — literary, charitable, political, rehgious, and 
commercial, have not combined into an oligarchy, for the purpose of 
bringing up to one set of artificial and traditional standards, the feel- 
ings, opinions, and actions of the rising generation; and thus the 
mind of each individual is allowed, in a great degree, to form on its 
own constitutional principles; whence result those exhibitions of ori- 
ginal character, of which the country has always been more prolific 
than the city, and which are oftener seen in new than old states of 
society. 

When an individual from the depths of a compressing population, 
builds his cabin in the" West, of the trees which grew on the spot se- 
lected for his future home, being speedily r-eleased from the requisi- 
tions of the society he left behind, he permits his children, like the 
bushes among which they ramble, to vegetate, almost unmoulded by 
the hand of art. Deep and enduring ignorance might be thought the 
lot of all who thus grow up in the forest; but observation has shown, 
that this condition of the mind is far more favorable to the reception 
of new truths, than that which prevails in the youth of older states of 
society. Hence, the West is pre-eminently the place where discov- 
eries and new principles of every kind, are received with avidity, 
and promptly submitted to the test of experiment. The mental sen- 
sibility is alive to innovations, and the growth of intellect which they 
impart, has a corresponding activity. 

26 



198 DR. drake's address. 

It is the peculiar distinction of the institutions, and the public sen- 
timent of the United States, that a youth of talents and virtue, may 
fise from the lowest to the highest walks of society, without being oh- 
structed or frowned upon as he advances. This is especially the case 
in the Western States, where the feelings of the people are in sym- 
pathy with young men of poor parentage,- and the knowledge of this 
facility, arouses the emulation, strengthens the purpose, and enlar- 
ges the views of our native population. 

For the first quarter of a century after the settlement of the West 
began, it had but few post roads, and its scattered inhabitants sel-' 
dom saw anewspaper^ In this comparative destitution of a political 
press; it became necessary for the candidates for office to visitthe peo- 
ple, and address them, when assembled for that purpose in central 
situations. On these occasions, opposing aspirants often met each 
other in fierce or earnest debate; and departed from* the arena, im- 
proved both in logic and the art of stirring up the passions; while the 
people themselves were instructed on subjects of legislation, and warm- 
ed in their political sensibilities. The practice has survived the ne- 
cessity from which it was at first adopted, and may still be regarded 
as a valuable school of oratory and political knowledge. 

The itinerant clergy are important teachers in a new country; for 
they present to the observation of the people, a perpetual succession 
of ministers, who lodge in their houses, converse with their families, 
and from the pulpit, promulgate every variety of Christian doctrine,, 
explained by the aid of as many different modes of illustration. 

The emigration to the West is a perennial stream. The fertility and 
beauty of the Great Valley, have been proclaimed on both sides of 
the Atlantic, and the subjects of European despotism have started 
from their slumbers and felt new impulses to action. Captivated by 
the story of our social and political freedom, our native luxuries, and 
the amplitude of our unsettled territories, the mind of the peasant and 
the villager, has been raised above the venal condition of their forefa- 
thers, and fired with the desire of emigration; the cottage of three 
generations, and the overshadowing elm of a hundred years, have lost 
their spell, and the friendships of childhood their charm; brother has 
bid farewell to brother, the father has pronounced his blessing on the 
son, impatient to be gone, and the mother shed the tear of love and 
sorrow, on the daughter she was to see no more; compacts of emigra- 
tion have been formed, and departing companies have thinned the 
population of the lordly estate, or left entire streets of the village un- 
peopled and deserted. Thus, day after day has brought into the West,. 
the enterprising and ambitious from other realms; and each has been 
a schoolmaster to our native population — presenting them with strange 



199 

tnaiiners and customs; arts, opinions, and prejudices not seen before; 
and traits of individual and national character, as numerous as the 
kingdoms which have poured their little colonies into the bosom of 
our young society. Many of the advantages of foreign travel, are 
thus experienced by those who could never go abroad; the Atlantic 
states and the west of Europe have come to us; and without leaving 
our native woods we have seen specimens well fitted to enlarge our 
■conceptions of character, and diminish the necessity of hazardous voy- 
ages, for the purpose of studying human nature in its development 
under political institutions entirely different from our own. 

The emigrants, themselves, generally the most enterprising mem- 
bers of the families to which they belonged, are improved by the 
change of place, for it affords new objects and associations; their curi- 
osity is awakened, and their powers of observation are rendered more 
acute; their minds are thrown into fermentation and become heated; 
rpurer standards of excellence float before their eyes and lead them on, 
while brighter hopes illuminate the paths they are to tread — thus they 
aspire to a better rank in society, and the aspiration brings the means 
'of its attainment. 

The addition to the Union, of Louisiana, withits French and Span- 
ish population, opened to the inhabitants of the Valley, a new source 
of intellectual improvement; for the trade between the Upper States 
and Lower Louisiana, has made thousands acquainted with the man- 
ners and customs and character, of a different people from ourselves, 
and thus augmented our knowledge of human nature. In the state 
of Missouri, the number of French inhabitants was^very considerable, 
and even Indiana and Illinois had masses of the same population, 
whose intercourse with the Anglo-American emigrants contributed 
to the same effect. 

The near neighborhood, the wars, and the monuments, insignifi can't 
as the last may be, of the Indians, have exerted a similar effect on 
the mental improvement of our young population, because they have 
been led, intently to observe and contemplate a peculiar variety of 
the human race, having a number of striking features, and far re- 
moved, in most of their qualities, from our own. 

Additional means of intellectual improvement, which, like these, 
are in some degree peculiar to the West, may have been recognized 
by other observers; but a sufficient number have been enumerated to 
show, that new countries are not wholly deficient in substitutes for 
the acadamies and colleges of the old. It is true, that sound schol- 
arship, in the present era of the world, is conferred only by institu- 
tions of learning, supplied with the requisite books, and confided to 
able professors; but much valuable knowledge, adapted to the irame- 



200 DR. drake's address. 

diate purposes of human life, may be amassed by observation alone, 
if the objects and wants which stimulate and satisfy that faculty are 
brought within its reach. In regard to the varieties of national char- 
acter, that may spring from this diversity in modes of education, the 
estimate of a person who has not been familiar with both, may not, 
perhaps, be according to the fact; but I feel strong in the conviction, 
that with all its deficiencies in literature and science, the mind of the 
West is at least equal to that of the East and of Europe, in vigor of 
thought, variety of expedient, comprehensiveness of scope, and gen- 
eral efficiency of execution; while in perspicacity of observation, in- 
dependence of thought, and energy of expression, it stands on ground 
unattainable by the more literary and disciplined population o-f older 
nations. 

But it would be great injustice to the subject before us to stop here» 
We have considered some of the beneficial effects of new countries on 
the mind, but their influences are, perhaps, still more salutary on the 
heart. Without aiming at metaphysical accuracy, we may recognize 
in the human character, a love of nature for the enjoyment derived 
from contemplating her beauties, sublimities, and eccentricities — a 
feeling of romance and enthusiasm — a keen sensibility to whatever is 
touching or magnanimous in the human character — a taste, in short, 
for all which the natural and moral world can present, to stir the ima- 
gination, and warm and elevate the feelings. This susceptibility con- 
stitutes the true poetical temperament, although it may not often ex- 
press itself in numbers. To do this it must be associated with an im- 
agination, that is not merely effervescent but creative, and an under- 
standing, that will enable that imagination to embody and put forth, in 
beauty and natural order, those images which, in common minds, 
play in a lively confusion among themselves, like fairies sporting amid 
the violets in the darkness of the night, but never moving in proces- 
sion after the daWn of day. The influence of this temperament on 
the character of the individual is impressive, and, within proper lim- 
its, every way admirable. It is the animating power of the inquiring 
and reasoning faculties — the soul of the intellect — the vital fire of gen- 
ius, and the fountain which encircles, with a halo of light, not a few 
of the noblest forms of human greatness. The influence of this tem- 
perament may be seen, must indeed manifest itself, in the opinions 
and actions of the individual, whatever may be his rank or pursuits; 
and when its intensity does not make him visionary, it throws about 
his character an irresistible charm. Would you have examples of it, 
take the man of business, who stops in the street to admire a cu- 
rious or beautiful object, or listen with delight to the story of a new 
act of generosity or sell-devotion by one whom, perhaps, he never 



201 

saw; and then, by a redoubled effort, ovcirtakes the object from which 
his attention had been withdrawn; or take the young farmer, who 
turns away his scythe from a clump of sweet-williams, that may stand 
Bmilingin his meadow; or the student who hastens on with his prob- 
lem or his translation, that he may stray for an hour in the genial air, 
and register the forms of the passing clouds. The soul that was nev- 
er warmed by this vivifying flame, like unbaked clay of the potter, is 
destitute of transparency, and will not vibrate to any stroke; and the 
greatest intellect in which it may have been quenched, resembles the 
half extinguished volcano, that obscures with volumes of murky 
smoke, the heavens which it once illuminated with sheets of fire. 

Now it must be admitted, that new.countries are more favorable than 
old, to the preservation and active influence of this temperament; 
and I cannot doubt, that their inhabitants have greater freshness of 
feeling, more lively impulses and deeper enthusiasm, than those 
who grow up and die, in the midst of a dense and struggling pop- 
ulation. 

Young Gentlemen: let me exhort you to cherish this temperament 
by every means within your power. Like the other dispositions of. 
the mind, it may be nourished and exalted; or depressed, degraded, 
and even extinguished. By exercise it grows in strength, and by 
receiving a direction upon proper objects it acquires dignity. The 
means of its gratification and improvement are always at your com- 
mand: — 

Watch attentively the conduct of little children, for in them you see 
the workings of nature; be wide awake to the eccentric movements 
of those around you, for the Jiuman character is known by its extrav- 
agant fiights, as the corruscations of the clouds reveal to us, that they 
are charged with electricity; treasure up the great and good actions 
that fall under your observation, for they will warm your own hearts, 
and fortify them against the mildew of a frigid selfishness; recall per- 
petually and dwell upon the memory of your young friendships; fos- 
ter all your early local attachments, and cherish the wild and airy su- 
perstitions of your childhood. When opportunities offer plunge into 
the depths of the forest, alone, or with friends of kindred taste, and 
establish a familiar intercourse with nature — drink out of your hand 
at her gushing fountains, and wade in the pebbly brook below; bathe 
in the deeper stream, and give yourselves up to musing on the lonely 
banks of the majestic river; now cast your eyes through the green 
canopy of maples, and gaze at the vulture poised high in the regions 
above; then chase the humming-bird, as it glides among the flowers 
which dress out our prairies in the dyes of the rainbow, or watch the 
worm as it slowly penetrates the trunk of the fallen tree; seek a spot 



^02 DR. drake's address. 

still more silent and retired, people it with the creations of your own 
heated imagination, and then hold converse with the spirits which 
you may fancy are dwelling in gayety or gloom beneath its embowering 
trees; as the thunder-cloud rolls onward, emerge from the woods and 
contemplate the warring hosts of heaven; sympathize with the ancient 
and venerable oak when you see him scathed by the thunderbolt; take 
sides with the conflicting elements, and soothe your feelings with a 
view of the mild glories of the setting sun. when the west wind has 
swept away the angry and contending clouds. 

Who is he that will sneer at this advice, and call it rhapsody; and 
guard you against its seductions; and tell you, "the soft grass waves 
smilingly? but the copperhead lurks beneath?" — Who is he that would 
subdue your admiration of nature, put out the fires of your enthusi- 
asm, and plunge the ice bolt into your warm hearts'? The man who 
forgets the divine command, — "Take no thought for your life what ye 
shall eat, or what ye shall drink; nor yet for your body, what ye shall 
put on." — Who can not .exclaim, with the inspired poet — "Praise ye 
the Lord. Praise ye the Lord from the Heavens: Praise him in the 
heights: Praise ye him, sun and moon: Praise him, all ye stars ofhght: 
Praise the Lord from the earth, ye dragons and all deeps: fire and hail; 
snow and vapor; stormy wind fulfilling his word: mountains and hills; 
•fruitful trees and all cedars: beasts and cattle: creeping things, and- 
flying fowl: Let them praise the name of the Lord." AVho is he- that 
would dry up your fountains of sympathy, with all that is grand and 
lovely in man, or beautiful and inspiring, in the great field of exter- 
nal nature? It is he, whose feelings never rise above mean heat; 
whose idols lie on his work bench; and whose delight is in the music 
of the saw; who passes, heedless, by the tender leaves of the young 
ash, and looks with ecstasy on those of his ledger; who counts his gold 
by day and dreams upon it by night; plants in the morning, and hopes 
to reap at noon; talks only of profitable results; and would make the 
earth a great work shop, and convert the human family into a vast bo- 
dy of operatives — instigated by avarice and abandoned to deeds of ra- 
pacity: The self-styled utilitarian, whose scope of vision takes in but 
the lowest part of human nature; provides chiefly for the gratification 
of his animal wants, hoards up the excess ef his earnings, and feels no 
pang in the hour of death, but that of separation from the stores 
which a life of toil and eagerness, had. enabled him to gather into his 
vaults. 

A cherished sensibility to all that is admirable in nature, is in no 
degree incompatible, with the acquisition of all that is necessary or use- 
ful in life. The sluggard, the glutton, and the drunkard, no less than the 
miser, do not, it is true, find time to indulge themselves in hours offer- 



DR. prake''s address. 20^5 

vent contemplation among the works of God; all who are not deliver- 
ed over to the tyranny of one, out of the many desires, which belong 
to human nature, are enabled in the midst of business, to send forth 
their imaginations upon the world of matter and of man, and take into 
the warm embrace of their feelings, whatever is touching and noble 
in both. 

He who fosters this sensibility, retains a youthfulness of taste, that 
keeps him in sympathy with the generations, which, like saplings that 
spring- up around the aged and decaying tree, are at last to succeed 
him in society. This amiable condescension,. spreads an irresistible 
charm over the character of age. Its maxims of wisdom become a 
law to the erring footsteps of youth; while the dark and dreary hours 
from which the most favored cannot escape, are lighted up by the flash- 
es of gayety and innocent mirth, which beam from the eye in the 
spring-time of life. On the contrary, the sullen old man lives only in 
the past, and dweUing alone in his dotage, goes down towards the 
grave, as the sun in winter descends through the mists and fogs of our 
western mountains, which extinguish his fires, while he still lingers 
on the verge of the horizon. 

Dismissing, for the present, our inquiry into some of th« intellectual 
and moral advantages, which our new country offers, as substitutes 
for the establishments of older states, let us proceed to speak of the 
duties and labors which it enjoins upon its sons. 

In the first place, we should transmit to posterity a graphic descrip- 
tion of the Great Valley, as it appeared in primitive lovehness to the 
eyes of the pioneers, as many of us remember to have seen it, and as 
it still smiles in spots unviolatedby man. Civilization is a transforming 
power, and wherever its wand is raised, the surface of the earth as- 
sumes a new aspect. The native trees, cut down and consumed, 
are replaced by the apple and orange; the wild grape, which united 
their limbs, is succeeded by an exotic, resting on trestles; the rivers 
are constrained within narrower channels, or turned into canals; and 
the mossy rocks of their margins, are broken with the sledge or explo- 
ded with gunpowder; hills are levelled and valleys filled up; a macad- 
amized road usurps the bed of the httle brook, and the rumbling of the 
coach wheel falls upon the ear, instead of the soft music of its rippling 
waters; fields of wheat undulate, where the prairie grass waved be- 
fore, and tobacco and cotton are nourished on the wreck of the cane- 
brake, which formerly spread its green leaves over the snows of win- 
ter. Thus the teeming and beautiful landscape of nature^ fades away 
like a dream of poetry, and is followed by the useful but awkward ere-' 
ations of art. Before this transformation is finished, a portrait should 
be taken, that our children may contemplate the primitive physiogno- 
my of their native land, and feast their eyes on its virgin charms. 



204 DE. dra-Ke's address. 

But science, not less than taste and feeling, is concerned in the re- 
cord which this generation should leave behind them. Many of our 
most beautiful plants are eaten out by the cattle, till they can only be 
found in secluded and inaccessible places; and the young botanist, 
who would make his herbarium an epitome of the flora of his native 
land, is already obliged to make long journeys to unfrequented parts; 
and then remain forever uncertain, whether the plants he may collect 
are the same, which once grew spontaneously around the cabin of his 
infancy. 

Not a few of our larger animals, have retreated to the solitudes 
which give birth to the Arkansas arid Missouri; and can only be seen 
as occasional curiosities; but of the lower classes in the animal king- 
dom, enough still inhabit our rivers, lakes, and morasses, our woods 
and fields — even the very air we breathe — to reward the inquisitive 
student of zoology with a rich and varied cabinet. To these he might 
add, the relics of those immense animals which are now mysteriously 
extinct, and only known to have existed, by the bones which lie bu- 
ried in our valleys. The West has the pre-eminence, of having first 
afforded these grotesque remains to the admiration of the curious; and 
is perhaps the region of the earth which affords the greatest variety. 
They are our animal antiquities, and should be collected, described, 
and arranged, in our own museums, instead of being transported 
across the ocean. 

The earth itself, as well as its organized productions, must be ex- 
plored. The mineral treasures of the Great Valley are, as yet, but lit- 
tle known, and should be elevated to view by the lever of science. 
The plan on which our rock formations are arranged, has not been 
fully revealed; and the petrifactions, in which they are opulent in the 
highest degree, have been but imperfectly described. Hence a por- 
tion of our yonng men should devote their leisure hours to our geol- 
ogy and mineralogy, both of which, without sacrificing any object 
of immediate personal interest, might be prosecuted to a degree high- 
ly advantageous to the public, and honorable to themselves. 

Our climates have not yet been rigorously estimated. Extending- 
from where the breezes of the south play among its groves of oranges 
and palmettoes, to the dreJiry forests of birch and hemlock, in the 
north, where frost occurs in each summer month, they present almost 
every variety that belongs to the temperate zone. The law of their 
decrease of temperature as we ascend the Mississippi, resulting from 
the combined influence of higher latitude and greater elevation above 
the level of the ocean; and the law of variation, as we traverse the 
Valley from east to west, depending on difference of altitude and 
change of distance from the mountains, have not been developed. 



im. DJiAKE's ADDRESS. 205 

Tiie quanlilies of rain and snow which fall in diftetcnt laliluJcs, and 
their relative atmospheric huniidity, arc equally unknown. Finally, 
thedata for an estimate of the climate of the Groat Valley, compared 
with that of the Atlantic states in the East, and of the distant territory 
of Oregon in the ultimate West, are yet to be completed, and present 
to you an ample and fruitful field for practical meteorology. 

Eut I must dismiss the objects of natural history that await your 
attention, to dwell on those which more immediately belong to soci- 
ety, and will excite in most of you a higher degree of interest. 

It is known to you all, that the Great Valley embraces a system of 
antiquities, the age and origin of which have not yet been discovered^ 
They consist of mounds, pyramids, embankments, the remains of stone 
walls, and various circumvallations, beneath which are buried a great 
variety of implements not recognized by the Indian, as belonging to 
his race. In exploring the country to the south-west, these monu- 
ments of ancient labor are found to become more numerous and of 
greater magnitude, till, in the solitudes of Mexico, we meet with the 
wreck of cities, scarcely inferior in grandeur to those mighty ruins, 
which, mouldering in the valleys of the Tigris and the Nile, have been 
objects of admiration and study through a hundred generations. Re- 
garding ours as connected, in their origin, with the greater monu- 
ments of Mexico, their study acquires a renewed interest; and the mind 
cannot refuse to dwell on the possibility, or even cherish the hope, that, 
sooner or later, when all the facts shall be collected and collated, a 
voice will arise, as from the sepulchre of the lost nation, and unravel 
the mystery of its connection with the other nations of the earth, and 
the causes of its utter extinction. The examination of these monu- 
ments, constitutes the study of the ancient history of our Valley, and 
has something in it, to which no heart, not destitute of romantic sensi- 
bility, can be indifferent.. To be successful, it must be prosecuted 
with an early diligence;, for the action of the elements, and the still 
more destructive hand of the rude pioneer, are fast reducing them to 
the level of the earth, and blending them with the soil out of which 
they were formed. 

The next great epoch in the history of the Valley, comprehends 
thatof the Indian; v/lio, from all that has been observed, was its in- 
habitant for centuries before the discovery of the new world, by the 
people of Europe. The materials for our aboriginal or Indian history, 
are comparatively copious; but many of them exist only in the memo- 
ry of the first- settlers of our own race, and others have been recorded, 
in fugitive publications, that arc rapidly passing away. Thus, every 
hour reduces ihcir number, and increases the difficulty of composing 

27' 



206 DR. drake'^s address. 

ahiBtory of this middle period, in the annals of the West. Of the pomtb 
to which you should attend, permit me to indicate the geographical 
distribution, relative numbers, comparative strength, affinities of lan- 
guage, and varieties of national character, of the tribes which once 
dwelt where we now hold possession, and also of those which remain 
in more distant and savage portions of the Valley. To which you 
should add such notices of the lives and actions of their chiefs and 
prophets, the motives of their wars with each other, and with ourselves,, 
their objections to our civilization, and the causes of their extinction 
or exile, as may be found practicable. 

The two last of these topics have a profound philosophical interest, 
and merit a moment's notice on the present occasion. Why, then, 
have they rejected our civilization, and adhering obstinately to their 
ancient habits, retreated before us into the deeper depths of the for- 
est! The answer may, pehaps, be found, in the contrast which their 
social condition makes with ours. They are hunters— we are agri- 
culturists and artizans; on the scale of human pursuits, they occupy 
the lowest, we the highest grade; and betwixt us, the intermediate or 
pastoral class does not exist. Now, has not the want of this connect- 
ing link, of the savage and the civilized extremes of society, occasion- 
ed the failure and the sad catastrophe, over which the heart of the 
kind and good, has so often poured forth its sorrows; which have 
barbed tlie arrows of .our own satirists; and brought upon us the re- 
proaches of our own moralists, poets, and historians'? I am not con- 
fident in any conviction, on a subject so foreign to my pursuits as that 
which I now present to your consideration, but can not withhold the 
opinion, that no people ever passed from the hunter to the ai^ricultur- 
al and civic condition, but through the medium of the pastoral. 

7Vi6es of hunters have property, that is, the possession of districts 
of forest, within which they hunt, to the partial exclusion of other 
tribes; but the game is in common, and enjoyed by each indiviual ac- 
cording to hip success in its acquisition, by personal enterprise. He 
has not, therefore, an idea of property further than that, by means of 
which he carries on his operations. But while the untutored shep- 
herd or herdsman, admits that the district where his flocks are driven 
is common property, he claims them as his own; and property being 
power, he discovers his consequence, compared with that of those 
who are destitute, and naturally seeks its augmentation; thus by the 
love of property, man is instigated to scale the heights of civilization. 
But the Indian has not yet had this desire awakened, and, being in- 
different to the means of gratifying it, prefers the freedom of the 
woods, to the imprisonment of fields and cities. This view of the 



DR. DRAKE^ri ADDRESS. 207 

niatXer, is supported, I think, by the results of all the efforts hitherto 
exerted, by our government, and our religious and benevolent socie- 
ties. Little or no progress has been made north of the 35 th degree of 
latitude, and whyf — Above that parallel, the winters are so severe, 
that cattle cannot subsist without fodder; but this must be provided, 
by labor, and its possession implies a previous devotion to agriculture: 
Below that degree, every kind of hve stock, can be supported through 
the winter^ on the spontaneous productions of the earth, and there- 
fore men rnay he pastoral he foice they d.re agricultural; which is precise- 
ly what has occurred. 

.According to this view of the matter the civilizing of the Indians is 
beset with difficulties not easily surmounted; but who can say that 
our efforts have been always well directed? or cease to regret, that they 
have perished by our presence, as the young corn dwindles and dies 
beneath the shade of the beautiful sugar-tree, while both belong to one 
kingdom of nature? 

Where now are their warriors and patriots-r-thejr chiefs, strick- 
en in years and full of the wisdom of the woods'? Gone! conduct- 
ed by the wild deer to the passes of the distant mountain. Fallen! 
buried beneath the yellow leaves of the stately poplars under which 
they consulted on the means of defence against the coming foe. 
Their paths for war and the chase are fenced across, and overgrown 
with corn; the voice of the ploughman resounds in the valleys where 
they laid in ambush for the passing elk; arni the bellowing of the ox 
has replaced that of the buffaloe, which they delighted to hunt. The 
deluging wave of our population has swept over their villages; and 
the places where they stood, are known only by a few scattered re- 
lics, as the floating fragments of the lost ship, reveal the spot where it 
sunk beneath the waters of the ocean. Mighty, indeed, has already been 
the change — vast the increase of inhabitants-— incalculable the aug- 
mentation of human happiness, within the limits of their country; but it 
was, indeed, their country — the land of their earliest regard, and the 
sepulchre of their fathers — they loved it as we love it now, for it is 
worthy of being loved; and they fought for it, as men- who love their 
country will fight: they were vanquished by us; and as magnani- 
mous conquerors we should do justice to their character, and transmit 
to posterity the story of their heroic and sorrowful fate. 

Our own, or the Europo-American history, constitutes the third 
and greatest department of the annals of the West, and one of the most 
interesting themes that can hereafter engage your attention. 

The early histories of most nations are proverbially little else than 
tissues of fables, invented in after ages; which may possibly be one 
reason why we read them with" pleasure. But apart from the pure 



208 DK. drake''s address, 

gratification of inquiring after wliat can never be Imown, and indul- 
ging our fancies unfettered by the tyranny of settled facts, there is a 
charm in the early history of a people, to which no ardent or inquisi- 
tive mind can ever be insensible. 

It is the distinction of the states in the Valley of the Mississippi, that 
their history may be composed with some degree of accuracy, from the 
day in which the first emigrants encamped beneath its magnolias and 
buckeyes. To accomplish this, however, the materials must be col- 
lected while those which remain are still within our reach. The ve- 
ry first settlers of the Valley are long since dead. They were French. 
The first English settlers, at a later period, are also dead; and with 
both classes many incidents have been lost. Not a few of the later 
pioneers have already followed to the grave, and with them perished, 
likewise, whatever was not recorded; the hand of the destroyer is still 
upon those who are the living archives of our early history, and we 
should hasten to rescue from oblivion, all that can be extracted from 
their decaying memories. Much, it is true, has been recorded; but 
the records are scattered, and many of them will be ultimately lost, un- 
less collected and preserved in historical libraries. 

The history of Louisiana dates back, to about the year 1663, a peri- 
od of one hundred and sixty years. The principal events of the first 
one hundred years, were Gallic. They were the discovery and par- 
tial settlement of what are now the states of Louisiana, Mississippi, Il- 
linois and Indiana, — the alternate possession of Louisiana by the 
French and Spaniards — the annihilation of the Natchez, the most civ- 
ihzed of all the tribes in the Great Valley, by the French— their labors 
to establish a cordon of military settlements across the continent, from 
Canada to the gulf of Mexico — their policy of amalgamating with the 
Indians, the influence which they established among the tribes, and 
the objects on which they directed that influence — the wars which 
they prosecuted against the colonies, as far as they were carried on 
within the valley of the Ohio, including that with General Braddock, 
— their final expulsion from the banks of the Allegheny, and, indeed, 
from most of the region east of the Mississippi, by the war of 1756, with 
England. These are matters which lie at the bottom of our history, 
and deserve to be faithfully ascertained and recorded. 

They bring us down to the years 1763, when, by treaty between 
France and England, the latitude of 31° was established, as the boun- 
dary east of the Mississippi, and that river as the western boundary, 
between the dominions of Great Britain and those of France and 
Spain. This constitutes the Hispano-Gallic, or first period of the civil 
history of the Valley; which," in reference to the part lying beyond the 



DR. drake's! address. 20*J 

Mississippi, was continued to the cession of Louisiana to the United 
States, in 1003. 

The second period, which may be styled the Anglican, in reality 
began east of the Mississippi, with the first extension of the colonial 
settlements, to this side of the mountains, previously to the year 1763; 
but may not improperly be dated from that time, and continued to 1784; 
when, by treaty. Great Britain acknowledged the independence of 
the United States, and relinquished her claim to the whole country 
east of the Mississippi; and, with it, whatever rights to the soil she 
might have acquired, by purchase or conquest, of the Indians. During 
this period of twenty years, the lawful jurisdiction of the greater part 
of the eastern division of the Valley, was, as it respects other civilized 
nations, vested by charter, in the Colonies of Virginia, North Carolina, 
Connecticut, and Pennsylvania, but chiefly in the first. The Indians, 
however, still held undisputed possession of nearly the whole; and, 
instigated and aided by the British from Canada, as they had former- 
ly been by the French,maintained, with the frontiers of Pennsylvania 
and Virginia, a most bloody partizan warfare. This, which may be 
termed the colonial period, has in it a great variety of romantic and 
interesting incidents. It was, throughout, a heroic age, and distin- 
guished by many striking military adventures. Within this period, 
the settlements in the western parts of the states just mentioned, 
were firmly established; the expedition of Col. Boquet, as far as the 
Muskingum river, in our state, enabled him to reclaim several hun- 
dred prisoners, men, women, arid children; the Moravian brethren 
formed establishments in the valley of the same stream; the bloody 
battle of theKenhawa, was fought near Point Pleasant; a daring band 
of partizan warriors, detatched from the infant settlements of Ken- 
tucky, was slaughtered near the Blue Licks; the celebrated speech of 
Logan was delivered not far from the banks of the Scioto; Daniel 
Boone enjoyed his romantic wanderings, his rencontres, and his 
captivities; General Clarke captured the English and Indian forces, 
at the ancient French villages of Kaskaskias and Vincennes; and the 
settlement of Tennessee and Kentucky was begun and accomplished, 
under circumstances of personal privation, hardship, and danger, 
which have never been surpassed; except, perhaps, in the first emi- 
gration to Massachusetts and Virginia. The operations of this period 
extended from the sources of the Ohio to the banks of the Tennessee 
and Mississippi; and although they may seem, to superficial observa- 
tion, to have had no connection with each other, it will appear, on a 
profound study of their causes, that they were intimately associated 
in their origin, as they finally merged in one great result. Were 



210 

we to select a portion of American history for the deeds of individual 
daring, and the thrilling incidents it would afford, this is precisely 
the one we should choose heyond all others. Some of you are the 
offspring of these military pion^eers, and you owe it to their memory, 
and to your country, to collect, ere it is too late, .the unrecorded remi- 
niscences of that age of blood and peril.' 

But this epoch is deeply interesting in another point of view. It 
was the age of Indian treaties, both of peace and cession; the first of 
which was held in 1765. It has been affirmed, that by these treaties 
we acquired from the Indians an honest and. indefeasible right, to all 
those portions of the Valley of the Mississippi, which we attempted 
to settle, but from which certain tribes labored to repel us; and hence 
we have charged the red man with faithlessness and cruelty. Thus 
the historian seems placed in the dilemma of believing, either that our 
pioneer fathers were rapacious invaders, or that the Indians were 
regardless of the most solemn compacts. I am happy in thinking, 
however, that no such painful alternative need to be admitted. It is 
at this time extremely difficult to ascertain the extent and terms of 
the various treaties, and the true jurisdiction of the different tribes, 
but my impression is, that our first purchases of the country north of 
the Ohio, if not that to the south, were from tribes who had no 
exclusive right to sell; and that those who resisted the settlement of 
the West were, in reality, defending what they had never agreed to 
surrender. To this consolatory view of our treaty history — one which, 
in a great degree, places both the pioneers and the Indians with whom 
they fought, in the right, and permits us to extend our sympathies to 
all— I would most earnestly direct your investigations . 

The next, or third period of our history, properly runs through but 
ten years, commencing with 1784 and ending with 1794. Short, 
however, as it was, it presents to the historian, both military and 
political, a copious mass of important materials. First, the cession to 
the confederacy, in 1784, by the State of Virginia, of the North-West- 
erh Territory; second, the celebrated federal ordinance of 1787, for its 
government; third, the settlement of that part of it in which we are 
now assembled, and the actual organization of the first territorial gov- 
ernment ever established by the United States; fourth, the campaigns 
of Harmer, St. Clair, and Wayne, all within the limitsof what is now 
the State of Ohio, with the final treaty of peace and cession, between 
the last of those generals and the chiefs of the Miami Confederacy, in 
1795; fifth, the admission into the Union, of the States of Kentucky 
and Tennessee, the oldest daughters of the great Mississippi family; 
sixth, the establishment of a commercial intercourse between the 
middle portions of the Valley and Lo.wcr Louisiana, with an alleged 



DR. drake''s address. 211 

project of certain distinguished individuals in Kentucky, for attaching 
the former, or a part of it, to the latter; seventh, the Western Insurrec- 
tion in the Valley of the Monongahela; eighth and last, the establish- 
ment of a mail between the new settlements and the old. 

This might be called the military period of our history, but it was, 
perhaps, less heroic than the preceding; and the latter part partook 
largely of a pohtical and commercial character. 

The sixth historical period extends from 1794 to 1804, and was dis- 
tinguished by the establishment of civil and literary institutions in 
Kentucky and Tennessee; the admission of Ohio, the oldest of the 
territories, into the Union; the organization of a territorial govern- 
ment for what is now the States of Indiana and lUinois; and the pur- • 
chase of Louisiana, by which the western declivity of the Great Val- 
ley was politically re-united with its natural counterpart, "in which 
we are now assembled. 

The seventh epoch runs, likewise, through a decennial term, and 
ends in 1814. During this period the Valley was again the seat of 
great military movements. In 1806 Burr's expedition, not well de- 
fined to the public' in its object, but regarded by the government as trea- 
sonable, wasprojected, defeated, andits authorpermanently disgraced; 
subsequently, the Indian wars, which had been suspended for fifteen 
years, were revived; Tecumseh,a Shawnese, born on the banks of 
the SciotOj one of the warmest patriots and cunningest statesmen 
which the tribes of North America have ever produced, conceived 
the bold and comprehensive project, of a confederacy of his country- 
men, from the upper to the lower Mississippi, that should stay the far- 
ther progress of the white man to the West; the first fruit of this 
patriotic design, was the battle of Tippecanoe, where his northern 
forces were defeated by General Harrison: the war with England fol- 
lowed, and put armies in motion from New Orleans to the shores of 
the Lakes; Kentucky, Tennessee, Louisiana, Ohio, Mississippi, and 
Indiana, sent their sons into the field; Jackson put forth his impetu- 
ous energies; Shelby re-appeared in the spirit of 1776; and Tecumseh, 
after a brief but powerful effort, to prevent the retreat of his British 
allies, before the army of the gallant Harrison, fell, gloriously fighting 
in the midst of his countrymen, and the confederacy he had labored 
to raise was dissolved forever. Although this period, especially the 
latter part of it, was chiefly distinguished for its military movements, 
which were on a scale commensurate with the increased magnitude 
of our population, it brought forth matters of a different character, on 
which the civil historian will love to dwell^ — and of which the great- 
est, relating to our commerce and social intercourse, was the aban- 



212 DK. DEAKE's ADDKES3. 

donment oi barges, propelled by human labor, and ilie subslitiition ol 
steamboats, producing a train of beneficial effects to the West, of such 
interminable length that new ones are still rising up to bewilder our 
delighted vision.- 

Thence forward, .the hist ory of the Valley is that of your own times, 
for most of you have been observers of what has taken place within 
the last twenty years. You have seen Louisiana, Mississippi, Ala- 
bama, Missouri, Illinois, and Indiana, erected into states, and admitted 
into the Union — new territorial governments established beyond their 
limits — the great rivers of the boundless northwest, ascended to their 
mountain cataracts, and trading houses built on their lonely and sav- 
age banks — railroads^ turnpikes, and extended canals, projected and 
partly finished — the useful or elegant plants and animals of foreign 
lands, brought over and natiiralized: you have beheld commercial 
cities erected, as rapidly as the young swarm build their habitation in 
the hollow elm of our woods, when they leave the parent bee-tree; 
you have seen them become the seats of foreign trade, and gazed with 
curiosity on packages of merchandize from England and France, 
from the Levant, and the still more distant India, as they were dis- . 
embarked on the quays of New Orleans, Natchez, St. Louis, Louis- 
ville, Cincinnati, and Pittsburgh; you have rejoiced to witness the 
extension of rehgioiis and benevolent societies, to places where vice 
and wretchedness held the heart in subjugation; finally, you have 
exulted in the organization of new institutions of learning, and the 
advancement of those already existing, till they have acquired a name 
among the people of the Union, and can dignify their festival days 
with the enlightened orators and scholars of oui: remotest parent 
states. 

Such has been" the series of events, and such the progress of Anglo- 
American society in the West, within seventy years. I have placed 
before you a rapid sketch of both, that you may perceive, at a single 
glance, how many delightful themes of history that brief period has 
brought forth to warm your hearts and animate your pens. But it has 
done still more. It hassuppUed subjects of biography toan-equal ex- 
tent and of equal interest. Most of the events have sprung from indi- 
vidual enterprise, exerting itself, in many instances, unaided and 
uncontroled; and the history of our infant settlements might, indeed, 
be told in the lives of the pioneers. In after ages such a biography 
would be regarded as the most curious and valuable literary bequest 
which the present generation could hand down; while we should do 
ourselves honor by honoring the memory of a race of men, who were 
often compelled to lay down their axes and fight from behind the 
very trees of which they were about to build their first rude cabins. 



DR. drake's address. 213 

Young Gentlemen: The scenery, history, and biography, of the 
Valley of the Mississippi, constitute the very elements of our litera- 
ture, and their retrospect naturally leads us to inquire into its re 
sources, and the character it will probably assume. When the young 
planter, on the banks of the Yazoo or the Illinois, clears away the 
forest, and prepares his lands for tillage, his taste and judgment are 
displayed in the plan on which he marks out his fields, and the seeds 
with which he sows them. It will depend on himself, whether his 
farm be beautiful in its arrangement and varied in its products, or 
irregular, unsightly, and more prolific in weeds and briars, than the 
useful and elegant productions of agriculture. Thus must it be with 
the scholars of the Great Valley. They have a vast field to cultivate, 
but small portions of which are as yet laid off and planted, and its 
future beauty and abundance, will be according to their skill and 
industry. 

As a part of the generation to which are confided the rudiments of 
our infant literature, I would exhort you to study profoundly the ele- 
ments you are to control, and labor to combine them according to the 
principles of taste and science. If the germs are deformed and sickly, 
the future, plants must be shapeless, feeble, and unproductive of salu- 
tary fruit. 

The materials placed at your command, and the age of the world in 
which you come up to the task, confer upon you many important ad- 
vantages. When we contemplate the history, condition, and pros- 
pects, of the West, we cannot fail to perceive, that its literature, will 
ultimately prove not only opulent in facts and principles, but pecu- 
liar in several of its qualities. Let us inquire into some of its present 
and prospective characteristics. 

In the first place— The time is remote, when language in the West, 
will acquire a high degree of purity, in nomenclature and idiom. Ma- 
ny of our writers have received but little education, and are far more 
anxious about results, than the polish of the machinery by which they 
are to be effected. They write for a people, whose literary attain- 
ments are limited and imperfect; whose taste is for the strong rather 
than the elegant; and who are not disposed or prepared to criticize 
any mode of expression that is striking or original, whatever may be 
the deformities in its drapery; consequently, bifet little solicitude is felt 
by our authors, about classical propriety. Moreover, the emigration 
into the Valley being from every civilized country, new and strange 
forms of expression are continually thrown into the great reservoir of 
spoken language; whence they are often taken up by the pen, trans- 
ferred to our literature, and widely disseminated. For many years 
to come, these causes will prevent the attainment either of regularity 

28 • 



214 DR. dbake's address. 

or elegance; but, gradually, the heterogeneous rudiments will conforni 
to a common standard, and finally shoot into a compound of rich and 
varied elements; inferior in refinement, but superior in force, variety, 
and freshness, to the language of the mother country. 

Second. Our literature, at present, is but slightly imbued with al- 
lusions and illustrations drawn from the classics; and although it may 
possess a portion of their temperament, they have not infused it; for 
they are cultivated by a small part of our scholars only, and seldom 
read, even in translation, by a majority of our educated people. I shall 
not prophecy on this subject, but nothing indicates, that the number 
of devotees to classical learning will be greater in proportion to our 
population, hereafter, than at the present time. I see as little to ad- 
mire in this neglect, as in that preposterous idolatry to the ancients, 
which would substitute the study of their literature for that of modern 
times. A genuine scholar extends his researches as far as his oppor- 
tunities will permit, and drawing from the literature of all nations — 
ancient and modern — whatever is good and beautiful in spirit, apphes 
it to the embellishment and elevation of his own. 

Third. Our literature will be tinctured with the thoughts and terms 
of business. The mechanic arts have become locomotive, both in 
temper and capacity — they travel abroad; and exhibit themselves in 
every department of society. To a certain degree, they modify the 
public mind; supply new topics for the tongue and pen; generate 
strange words and phrases, as if by machinery; suggest novel modes 
of illustration, and manufacture figures of speech by steam power. 
They afford canal transportation to the ponderous compiler of statis- 
tics; a turnpike to the historian; a tunnel to the metaphysician; a scale 
of definite proportions to the moral philosopher; a power loom and 
steam press to the novelist; fulminating powder to the orator; corrosive 
acids to the satirist; a scalpel to the reviewer; a siesta chair to the es- 
sayist; a kaleidescope to the dramatist; a .balloon to the poet; a rail- 
road to the enthusiast, and nitrous oxide to the dunce. While we de- 
voutly indulge the hope, that our literature will- not depend for its el- 
evation on the lever of the arts, there can be no objection to a fellow- 
ship between them; nor any reason why it should not adopt, whatev- 
er they may offer, to diversify its objects and enrich its resources. 

Fourth. The absence, in the Valley of the Mississippi, of those an- 
cient and decaying edifices, which are scattered over Europe, and 
were once the seats of great political, military, or social events, must 
deprive our literature of an element of solemn and touching grandeur. 
It might be thought, that our own antiquities would supply the place 
of those; but we know nothing of the people by whom these were 
erected, and consequently, they inspire but little of that romantic and 



DR. drake's address. 215 

tender feeling, which results from associating the history of a people 
with the ivy-covered ruins of their former taste and industry. 

Fifth. In the West there is no prevailing love or talent for music, 
the most delightful of all the liberal arts; and, of course, its softening 
and refining influences will not be exerted on our literature. To 
what extent a musical taste might, hereafter, be created by pressing 
the study of this science, as a branch of popular education, cannot be 
foreseen; but the interesting results that would flow from success, 
should animate us to a vigorous effort in the experiment. I have lit- 
tle doubt, that the musical temperament of Germany, is one reason 
why, on having her mind directed to the creation of a national litera- 
ture, she so speedily and gracefully accomplished the object. 

Sixth. A religious spirit animates the infancy of our literature, and 
must continue to glow in its maturity. The public taste calls for this 
quality, and would relish no work in which it might be supplanted 
by a principle of infidelity. Our best authors have written under the 
influence of Christian feeling; but had they been destitute of this sen- 
timent, they would have found it necessary to' accommodate them- 
selves to the opinions of the people, and follow Christian precedents. 
The beneficent influence of religion on literature, is like that of our 
evening sun, when it awakens in the clouds those beautiful and burn- 
ing tints, which clothe the firmament in gold and purple. It consti- 
tutes the heart of learning — the great source of its moral power. Re- 
ligion addresses itself to the highest and holiest of our sentiments — 
benevolence and veneration; and their excitement stirs up the ima- 
gination, strengthens the understanding, and purifies the taste. 
Thus, both in the mind of the author and the reader, Christianity and 
literature act and react on each other, with the effect of elevating both, 
and carrying the human character to the highest perfection which, it 
is destined to reach. Learning should be proud of this companion- 
ship, and exert all her wisdom to render it perpetual. 

Seventh. The literature of the west is now, and will continue to 
be ultra-republican. If we compare the constitutions of the new states 
with the old, we find that when republicans transfer themselves into 
the free and expanded solitudes of the wilderness, and proceed to or- 
ganize new institutions, they display an increasing disposition to re- 
tain the political power in their own hands. It is possible to run in- 
to excesses in this respect, but that error is safer than the opposite; 
unless, indeed, they should carry their democratic principles so far, as 
to generate anarchy. Liberal political institutions favor the growth 
of literature; and, in turn, when its powerful energies are exerted. in 
•the great cause of personal freedom, the liberties of a reading people 
are placed beyond the grasp of tyranny. 



216 

Eighth. The literature of a young and a free people, will of coarse 
be declamatory, and such, so far as it is yet developed, is the charac- 
ter of our own. Deeper learning will, no doubt, abate its verbosity 
and intumescence; but our natural scenery, and our liberal pohtical 
and social institutions; must long continue to maintain its character of 
floridn6ss. And what is there in this that should excite regret in our- 
selves, or raise derision in others] Ought not the literature of a free 
people to be declamatory? Should it not exhort and animate] If 
cold, literal, and passionless, how could it act as the handmaid of im- 
provement? In absolute governments all the political, social, and lit- 
erary institutions, are supported by the monarch — here they are ori- 
ginated and sustained by public sentiment. In despotisms, it is of 
little use to awaken the feelings or warm the imagination of the peo- 
ple — here an excited state of both, is indispensable to those popular 
movements, by which society is to be advanced. Would you rouse 
men to voluntary action, on great public objects, you must make their 
fancy and feelings glow under your presentations; you must not mere- 
ly carry forward their reason, but their desires and their will; the util- 
ity and loveliness of every object must be displayed to their admira- 
tion; the temperature of.the heart must be raised, and its cold selfish- 
ness melted away, as the snows which buried up the fields when 
acted on by an April sun; then — like the budding herb which shoots 
up from the soil — good and great acts of patriotism will appear. "When- 
ever the literature of a new country loses its metaphorical and de- 
clamatory character, the institutions which depend on pubhc senti- 
ment will languish and decline; as the struggling boat is carried back, 
by the impetuous waves of the Mississippi, as soon as the propelhng 
power relaxes. In this region, low pressure engines are found not to 
answer — high steam succeeds much better; and, although an orator 
may now and then explode and go off in vapour, the majority make 
more productive voyages, than could be performed under the influ- 
ence of a temperate heat. 

Ninth. For a long time the oration, in various forms, will consti- 
tute a large portion of our literature. A people who have fresh and 
lively feelings, will always relish oratory; and a demand for it will of 
course bring a supply. Thus auditors create orators, and they, in turn, 
increase the number of hearers. In a state of society where an in- 
definite number of new associations, political, religious, literary, and 
social, are to be organized, it is far more effective to assemble men to- 
gether and address them, personally, than through the medium of the 
press. If an excitement can be raised in a few, it spreads sympathet- 
ically among the many; and is often followed by immediate results of 
greater magnitude, than the pen could produce in years. Hence, I 



DR. DRAKE^S ADDRESS. 217 

regard the study of oratory as among the most important objects of an 
academical and collegiate course; and would earnestly commend it to 
your consideration. None of you should assume, that he will never 
be called upon to speak in public, and may, therefore, omit the culti- 
vation of eloquence. In- this country, occasions for doing good by 
public speaking come up when little expected; and are not confined 
to the learned professions of theology and law., The opportunities 
and calls are numerous beyond computation; and the variety of objects 
so great, as to extend to every intelligent man in society. Even the 
merchant, the mechanic, and the agriculturist, are often placed in .sit- 
uations where an expression of their opinions, before assemblies of 
their own brethren, may be followed by beneficial effects to them- 
selves, as well as to those whom, they may address. I am so far from 
wishing to discourage this practice, that I would promote it by every 
argument, as an instrument of social advancement, a method of popu- 
lar instruction on specific subjects, and a means of preserving our free 
institutions. 

Tenth. The early history, biography, and scenery of the Valley of 
the Mississippi, will confer on our literature a variety of important 
benefits. They furnish new and stirring themes for the historian, the 
poet, the novelist, the dramatist, and the orator. They are equally 
rich in events and objects for the historical painter. As a great num- 
ber of those who firfet threaded the lonely and silent labyrinths of our 
primitive woods, were men of intelligence, the story of their perils 
and exploits, has a dignity which does not belong to the early history 
of other nations. We should delight to follow their footsteps and 
stand upon the spot where, at night, they lighted up the fire of hicko- 
ry bark to frighten off the wolf; where the rattlesnake infused his 
deadly poison into the foot of the rash intruder on his ancient domain; 
where, in the deep grass, they laid prostrate and breathless, while the 
enemy, in Indian file, passed unconsciously on his march. We 
should plant willows over the spots once fertihzed with their blood; 
and the laurel tree where they met the unequal war. of death, and 
remained conquerors of the little field. 

From the hero, we should pass to the hero's wife, the companion of 
his toil, and too often the victim of the dangers into which he plunged. 
We shall find her great according to the occasion. Contented under 
deprivation, and patient through that sickness of the heart, which na- 
ture inflicts on her who wanders from the home of her fathers; watch- 
ful, that her little one should not stray from the cabin door, and be 
lost in the dark and savage woods; wild with alarm when the night closed 
in, and the wanderer did not return; or frantic with terror, when the 
scream of the Indian told the dreadful tale, that he had been made a 



218 DR. drake's address. 

captive and could no more be folded to her bosom. We should fol- 
low her to other scenes, when the merciless foe pursued the mover's 
boat; or assaulted the little cabin, where in the dark and dismal night, 
the lone family must defend itself or perish. Here it was that she 
rose above her sex in active courage; and displayed, in defence of her 
offspring more than herself, such examples of self-possession and per- 
sonal bravery, as clothe her in a new robe of moral grandeur. 

Theexcitinginfluencesof that perilous age were not limited to man 
and woman; the child also felt their power, and became a young hero; 
the girl fearlessly crushed the head of the serpent that crossed her for- 
est -path, when hieing alone to the distant neighbor; and the boy, 
while yet too yoUng to carry the rifle, placed the little tomahawk in 
his buckskin belt, and followed in the wake of the hunter; or sallied 
forth, a young volunteer, when his father and brothers pursued the 
retreating savage. Even the dog,- man's faithful sentinel in the wil- 
derness, had his senses made keener, and his instinct exalted into 
reason, by the dangers that surrounded his playmates of the family. 

Were it consistent with the object of this discourse, I could intro- 
duce incidents to illustrate all that is here recounted; many might be 
collected from the narratives whichhave been published; but a much 
greater number lie buried in the memories of the aged pioneers 
and their immediate descendants, and will be lost unless they be 
speedily made a part of our history. As specimens of what remain 
unpublished, permit me to cite the following, for which I have the 
most respectable authorities. 

A family, consisting of the husband, the wife, and two children, 
one two years old, the other at the breast, occupied a solitary cabin in 
the neighborhood of a block-house, where several other families re- 
sided, in the year 1789, near the Little Miami river, in this State. 
Not long after the cabin was built, the husband unfortunately died; 
and such was the grief and gloom of his widow, that she preferred to 
live alone, rather than mingle with the inhabitants of the crowded 
block-house, where the noise and bustle would be abhorrent to her 
feelings. In this solitary situation she passed .several months. At 
night it was a common thing to see and hear the Indians around her 
habitation; and, to secure her babes from the tomahawk, she resorted 
to the following precaution. Raising a puncheon of the floor, she dug 
a hole in the ground and prepared a bed, in which, after they had 
gone to sleep, she placed them side by side, and then restored the 
puncheon. When they awoke and required nourishment, she raised 
it, and hushing them to sleep, returned them to her hiding place. 
In this way, to use her own words, she passed night after night, and 
week after week, with the Indians and her babes, as the sole objects 
of her thoughts and vigils. 



DR. DRAKE^'s ADDRESS. 219 

Would you have an example of fortitude and maternal love, you 
could turn to no nation for one more touching or original. 

The following incident displays the female character under an 
aspect a little diflferent, and shows that, in emergencies, it may some- 
times rise above that of the other sex. 

About the year 1790, several families, emigrating together into the 
interior of Kentucky, encamped at the distance of a mile from a new 
settlement of five cabins. Before they had laid down, and we're still 
sitting round the blazing-brush, a party of Indians approached behind 
the trees and fired upon them. One man was killed on the spot, and 
another fled to the village, leaving behind him a young wife and an 
infant child! As no danger had been apprehended, the men had noi 
their ammunition at hand, and were so confused by the fire of the sav- 
ages, that it was left for one of the mothers of the party to ascend into 
the wagon, where it was deposited, break open the box with an axe, 
hand it out, and direct the men to'return the fire of the enemy. This 
was done, and they dispersed. 

The next incident I shall narrate, was communicated to me by one 
of the most distinguished citizens of the State just mentioned. I shall 
give it to you in his own words. 

"In the latter part of April, 1784, my father, with his family, and 
five other families, set out from Louisville, in two flat-bottomed boats, 
for the Long Falls of Green river. The intention was to descend the 
Ohio river to the mouth of Green river, and ascend that river to the 
place of destination. At that time there were no settlements in Ken- 
tucky, within one hundred miles of the Long Falls of Green river (af- 
terwards called Vienna.) The families were in one boat and their cat- 
tle in the other. When we had descended the river Ohio about one 
hundred miles, and were near the middle of it, gliding along very 
securely, as we thought, about ten o'clock of the night, we heard a 
prodigious yelling, by Indians, some two or three miles below us, on 
the northern shore. We had floated but a little distance farther 
down the river, when we saw a number of fires on that shore. The 
yell-ing still continued, and we concluded that they had captured a 
boat, which had passed us about mid-day, and were massacreing their 
captives. Our two boats were lashed together, and the best practica- 
ble arrangements made for defending them. The men were distribu- 
ted by my father, to the best advantage, in case of an attack, they 
were seven in number, including himself. The boats were neared to 
the Kentucky shore, wnth as little noise by the oars as possible. We 
were afraid to approach too near the Kentucky shore, lest there might 
be Indians on that shore also. We had not yet reached their upper- 
most fire (their fires were extended along the bank, at intervals, for 



220 

half a mile or more,) and we entertained a faint hope that we might 
slip by un perceived. But they discovered us when we had got about 
mid-way of their fires, and commanded us to come to. We were 
silent, for my father had given strict orders that no one should utter 
any sound but that of his rifle; and not that until the Indians should 
come within powder-burning distance. They united in a most ter- 
rific yell, and rushed to their canoes, and pursued us. We floated 
on in 'silence — not an oar was pulled. They approached us within 
less than a hundred yards, with a seeming determination to board us. 
Just at this moment, my mother rose from her seat, collected the axes, 
and placed one by the side of each man, where he stood with his gun, 
touching him on the knee with the handle of the axe, as she leaned 
it up by him against the side of the boat, to let him know it was there, 
and retired to her seat, retaining a hatchet for herself. The Indians 
continued hovering on our rear, and yelling, for near three miles, 
when, awed by the .inferences which they drew from our silence, 
they relinquished farther pursuit. None but those who have had a 
practical acquaintance with Indian warfare, can form a just idea of 
the terror which their hideous yelling is calculated to inspire. I was 
then about ten years old, and shall never forget the sensations of that 
night; nor can I ever cease to admire the fortitude and composure 
displayed by my mother onthat trying occasion. We were saved, I 
have no doubt, by the judicious system of conduct and defence, which 
my father had prescribed to our little band. We were seven men and 
three boys — but nine guns in all. They were more than a hundred. 
My mother, in speaking of it afterwards, in her calm way, said, we 
had made a. providential escape, for which we ought to feel grateful." 

Although but few years have elapsed since that night of deep and 
dismal emotion, the war fires which blazed beneath the white limbs of 
the sycamore and gleamed upon the waters, have long since been 
superseded by the lights of the quiet and. comfortable farm-house; the 
gliding bark canoe has been banished by the impetuous steamer; and 
the very shore on which the enemy raised their frightful death yell, 
has been washed away by the agitated waters! Nowhere, in the 
annals of other nations, can we find such matchless contrasts between 
two periods but half a century apart. 

In the year 1786, three brothers set out from a wooden fort, in 
which some families were intrenched, to hunt on Green river, in the 
State of Kentucky. They ascended the river in a canoe for several 
miles, when, finding no game, they determined on returning home. 
The oldest brother left the canoe, that he might hunt on his way back. 
As the other two slowly floated down the stream, and were at a point 
called the little falls, they discovered an Indian skulking towards 



DK. DRAKE^S ADDRESS. 221 

*hem through the woods. He was on the same side of the river with 
their brother. After deliberating a moment, they decided on flight; 
and, applying their paddles with great industry, soon reached the 
fort, but did not relate what they had seen. In about an hour the 
brother arrived, and, while ignorant of their discovery, made the fol- 
lowing statement: 

"That has happened to me to-day which never happened to me 
before. I had not met with any game, and became tired of walking 
and turned in towards the river, intending to meet -my brothers at 
the little falls, and take a seat in the canoe; but when I got near to 
that point, my dog sat down and howled in a low and piteous tone. 
I coaxed him, patted and flattered him to follow me, but he would 
not; and when I would approach him, he would jump up joyously 
and run off from towards the river, and look at me and wag his tail, 
and seem eager to go on« After endeavoring, in vain, to get him to 
follow me, I concluded to follow him, and did so. He ran briskly be- 
fore me, often looking back, as if to be sure that I was coming, and to 
hasten my steps." 

The brother was then told that, at that very point where the faith- 
ful dog had arrested his march towards the canoe, those who were in 
it had discovered an Indian. All who heard the story, believed that 
he had been perceived by the animal, and recognized as the enemy 
of his master; for, as my respectable correspondent adds, 

"The dog of the hunter was his companion and friend. They 
were much together, and mutually dependent upon and serviceable 
to each other. A hunter would much rather have lost his horse than 
his dog. The latter was the more useful animal to his master, and 
greatly more beloved by him." 

Nearly two years afterwards another incident occurred at the same 
family fort, which displays the dangers which beset the emigrants of 
that period, and illiistrates the magnanimity of the female character. 

About' twenty young persons, male and female, of the fort, had 
united in a flax pulling, in one of the most distant fields. In the 
course of the forenoon, two of their mothers made them a visit, and 
the younger took along her child, about eighteen months old. When 
the whole party were near the woods, one of the young women, who 
had climbed over the fence, was fired upon by several Indians con- 
cealed in the bushes, who at the same time raised the usual war- 
whoop. She was wounded, but retreated, as did the whole party; 
some running with her down the lane, which happened to open near 
that point, and others across the field. They were hotly pursued by 
the enemy, who continued to yell and fire upon them. The older of 
the two mothers who had gone out, recollecting in her flight, that the 

29 



222 



DK. DRAKE'S ADDRESS. 



younger, a small and feeble woman, was burthened with her chiM^ 
turned back, in the face of the enemy, they firing and yelHng hide- 
ously, took the child from its almost exhausted mother, and ran with 
it to the fort, a diBtance of three hundred yards. During the chase 
she was twice shot at with rifles, when the enemy were so near that 
the powder burnt her, and one arrow passed through her sleeve, but 
she escaped uninjured. The young woman who was wounded, al- 
most reached the place of safety, when she sunk, and her pursuer,, 
who had the hardihood to attempt to scalp her, was killed by a bullet 
from the fort, 

I shall not anticipate your future researches into our early history^ 
by narrating other incidents; but commend the whole subject ta 
your keeping, and hope to see you emulate each other in its cultiva- 
tion. You will find it a rich and exhaustless field of facts and events, 
illustrating the emotions of fear and courage, patience and fortitude^ 
joy and sorrow, hope, despair, and revenge; disclosing the resources 
of civilized man, when cut off from his brethren, destitute of the com- 
forts of life, deficient in sustenance, and encompassed around with 
dangers, against which he must invent the means of defence "or 
speedily perish; finally, exhibiting the comparative activity, hardi- 
hood, and cunning, of two distinct races, the most opposite in man- 
ners, and customs, and arts, arrayed against each other, and, with 
their respective weapons of death, contending for the possession of 
the same wilderness. 

Eleventh. Our literature cannot fail to be patriotic, and its patriot- 
ism will be American — composed of a love of country, mingled with 
an admiration for our political institutions. The slave, whose very 
mind has passed under the yoke, and the senseless ox, whom he 
goads onward in the furrow, are attached to the spot of their animal 
companionship, and may even fight for the cabin and tlie field where- 
they came into existence; but this affection, considered as an ingre- 
dient of patriotism, although the most universal, is the lowest; and to 
rise into a virtue, it must be discriminating and comprehensive, in- 
volving a varied association of ideas, and embracing the beautiful of 
the natural and moral world, as they appear around us. To feel in 
his heart, and infuse into his writings, the inspiration of such a pa- 
triotism, the scholar must feast his taste on the delicacies of our sce- 
nery, and dwell with enthusiasm on the genius of our constitution 
and laws. Thus sanctified in its character, this sentiment becomes a 
principle of moral and intellectual dignity — an element of fire, purify- 
ing and subliming the mass in which it glows. As a guiding star to 
the will, its light is inferior only to that of Christianity. Pleroic in its 
philanthropy, untiring in its enterprises, and subhme in the martyr- 



»K. drake's address. 223 

^oms it willingly suffers, it justly occupies a high place among the 
virtues which ennoble the human character. A literature animated 
with this patriotism, is a national blessing, and such must be the lit- 
erature of the West, That of all parts of the Union must be richly 
-endowed with this spirit; but a double portion will be the lot of the 
interior, because the foreign influences, which dilute and vitiate this 
virtue in the extremities, cannot reach the heart of the continent, 
where all that lives and moves is American. Hence a native of the 
West may be confided in as his country's hope. Compare him with 
the native of a great maritime city, on the verge of the nation — ^his 
birth-place the fourth ^lory of a house, strangulated by the surround- 
ing edifices, his play-ground a pavement, the scene of his juvenile 
■rambles an arcade of shops, his young eyes feasted on the flag of a 
hundred alien governments., the streets in which he wanders crowd- 
ed with foreigners, and the ocean, common to all nations, forever ex- 
panding to his view: estimate his love of country, as far as it depends 
on local and early attatchments, and then contrast him with the young 
backwoodsman, born and reared amidst objects, Scenes, and events, 
which you can all bring to mind: the jutting rocks in the great road, 
lialf alive with organic remains, or sparkling with crystals; the quiet 
old walnut tree, dropping its nuts upon the yellow leaves, as the 
morning sun melts the October frost; the grape vine swing; the chase 
after the cowardly black snake, till it creeps under the rotten log; the 
sitting down to rest, upon the crumbling trunk, and an idle examin- 
ation of the mushrooms and mosses which grow from its ruins; then 
the wading in the shallow stream, and upturning of the flat stones, 
to find bait with which to fish in the deeper waters; next, the plunder 
of a bird's nest, to make necklaces of the speckled eggs, for her who 
has plundered him. of his young heart; then the beech tree with its 
-smooth body, on which he cuts the initials of her name, interlocked 
with his own; finally, the great hollow stump, by the path that leads 
up the valley to the log scliool-house, its dry bark peeled off, and the 
stately polk-weed growing from its centre, and bending with crim- 
son berries; which invite him to sit down and write upon its polished 
-wood, how much pleasanter it is to extract ground squirrels from under- 
neath its roots, than to extract the square root, under ihat labor-sav- 
ing machine, the ferule of a pedagogue! The affections of one who 
is blest with such reminiscences, like the branches of our beautiful 
trumpet flower, strike their roots into every surrounding object, and 
derive support from all which stand within their reach. The love of 
country is with him a constitutional and governing principle. If he 
be a mechanic, the wood and iron which he moulds into form, are 
4ear to his heart, because they remind him of his own hills and fop- 



224 DE. DRA-Ke's AUBREY, 

ests; if a husbandman, he holds companionship with the growing 
corn, as the offspring of his native soil; if a legislator, his dreams are 
filled with sights of national prosperity, to flow from his beneficent 
enactments; if a scholar, devoted to the interests of literature, in his 
tone and excited hours of midnight study, while the winds are hush- 
ed, and all animated nature sleeps, when the silence is so profound, that 
the stroke of his own pen grates, loud and harsh, upon his ear, and fan- 
cy, from the great deep of his luminous intellect, -draws up new forms 
of smihng beauty and solemn grandeur; the genius of his country 
hovers nigh, and sheds over his pages an essence of patriotism, as 
sweet as the honey-dew which the summer night distils upon the 
leaves of our forest trees. 

Young Gentlemen: I have directed your attention to some of the 
circumstances that will exert an influence on the character of our lit- 
erature. It is for you and your contemporaries to recognize others, 
Etnd so control and animate the action of the whole, as to bring out re- 
sults in harmony with the nature that surrounds you. To do this, suc- 
cessfully, you must study that nature^ and comprehend its tempera- 
ment. With the elements of learning and science, conferred by your 
honored alma mater, you should go forth, and make acquaintance with 
the aspects, productions, and people of your native land. Few of 
you can travel in foreign countries, but all may explore their own; 
and I do not hesitate to say, that the latter confers greater benefits 
than the former; though both should be enjoyed by those who possess 
the means. But to render travelling beneficial, it must not be per- 
formed in steamboats and rail-road cars, darting with the flight of the 
wild pigeon before the north wind, and cutting through whole states 
in the darkness of a single night. Thus borne impetuosly onward, 
you see only the great commercial points, which, from their constant 
intercourse, become so assimilated, as to afford but little variety. The 
diversilies in aspect and productions; in natural curiosities; in works 
of art, both elegant and useful; in public improvements and resources; 
in political, literary, social, and religious establishments, and in per- 
sonal and national character, the study of which should be the chief 
end of travel, are found in places remote from the commercial high- 
ways of the nation, not less than in those which lie upon them; and 
can only be seen and studied by him who departs from the beaten track, 
and views every spot with the eye of a curious and disciplined ob- 
server. The copious stores of knowledge, and the vigor of intellect, 
which may thus be acquired, are not the only advantages which trav- 
elling in your own country can yield; for it will confirm your native 
tastes and feelings, preserve your love of home, and strengthen your 
nationality — so often impaired by premature or protracted residence 



DR. drake's address. 2^ 

abroad. Hence you will become betfer qualified as writers; and, 
when time shall ripen your judgments into perfect maturity, you will 
be able to lend important aid to your countrymen, in the formation of 
an American literature, that shall be rich in illustrations drawn from 
your native land, glowing in its patriot'ism, attractive by its freshness, 
and intense in its strength and fervor. 

My Young Friends: When you return home as men, you will find 
that other duties await you, than those which relate to our literature. 
Your fathers have done little more than clear the ground, and scatter 
the first seeds of society; and you must not only weed and water the 
young plants, but enrich the soil with others, to which their limited 
means could not extend. Thus you, and even the next generation, 
will be pioneers, like the last; but your pioneering will be less diflicult 
and arduous. I cannot indicate all the labors and enterprises which 
lie before you; but as specimens may say, that new political constitu- 
tions are to be formed, and the older remodeled, as experience may 
dictate; laws adapted to the character and genius of a varying popu- 
lation, and to the wants and productions of different parts of the Val- 
ley, are to be devised; a machinery of civil and municipal govern- 
ment, and systems of jurisprudence, in unison with the taste and 
temper of our rising communities, are to be instituted; inventions and 
manufactures, appropriate to our various situations, are to be natur- 
alized, or brought forth on the spots where required, and put into op- 
eration; our plans of internal improvement must be extended, and 
made to unite with each other, in such manner as to spread over and 
connect all parts of the Valley; institutions of learning, from common 
schools up to universities, must be organized where they do not ex- 
ist, and re-organized and improved where they do; public hospitals on 
all our great rivers should be erected, for the relief of our trading pop- 
ulation; new associations, for purifying the morals of the great mass 
of the people, should be formed; and religious societies constituted, 
w^herever they are rendered necessary, by the extension of our set- 
tlements. 

Thus, you will be called toparticipate in grand and noble objects, 
and enjoy the high prerogative of creating — of giving the first impulse 
— of prescribing the direction, and laying down the rule of action. 
In performing these momentous functions, you will fix the course of 
future events, as far as human agency can regulate them. A great 
responsibiUty rests upon you — the destinies of millions will be lodged 
in the hands of your fellow laborers and yourselves. Keep those 
hands free from stain, look into your own hearts, and cast out all un- 
holy selfishness; chasten your ambition; cherish your benevolence, till 
it shall expand over every object of philanthropy; cultivate your reli- 



S^6 DB. DBAKE^S ADDRESS, 

gious feelings,* preserve your simplicity of raanners; rebel against the 
tyranny of fashion; study profoundly the character of your country 
men. that you may know how to supply their intellectual and moral 
wants; enrich your minds with the maxims of wisdom furnished by 
other ages, and modify them to suit your own; learn to concentrate 
your thoughts, successively, on every scheme of public utility; mould 
yourselves into practical patriots; declare a war of extermination 
against the whole class of demagogues; finally, school all your facul- 
ties and affections, till you can come to feel powerful in your country^s 
strength, exalted in her greatness, and bright in her glory. 

With this preparation of mind, and willing devotion of heart, you 
will labor, in harmony, till the monuments of your skill and industry 
shall cover the land, from Michigan to Louisiana — from the mountain 
rivulets of our own unrivaled Ohio, to the grassy fountains of the sav 
age ArkansgLS. You will contribute to raise up a mighty people, a 
new world of man, in the depths of the new world of history, and 
the friends of liberty, literature, and religion, in all nations, will look 
upon it with love and admiration: composed of the descendants of em- 
igrants from every country, its elements will be as various as the trees 
which now attire our hills; but its beauties as resplendent as the hues 
of their autumn fohage. 

Then, in the hour of death, when your hearts shall pour out the 
parting benediction, and your eyes are soon to close, eternally, on the 
scene of your labors, you will enjoy the conscious satisfaction, of hav- 
ing contributed to rear in your native Valley, a lovely sisterhood of 
states, varying from each other, as the flowers of its numerous cli-> 
mates differ in beauty and fragrance; but animated with the same 
spirit of patriotism, instinct with one sentiment of rising glory, 
and forever united by our Great River, as the Milky-way, whose im- 
age dances on its rippling waters, combines the stars of the sky into 
one broad and sparkling firmament. 

[Note. — An apology is due the author of the foregoing Address, 
as well as the public, for several defects in the present edition. The 
Dedication and Notes should have been inserted; the caption and 
running title should have been Discourse, not *Address;' and certain 
amendments furnished by the author should have been made. These 
defects result from a mistake of the printer, who, in the absence of 
the publisher, commenced printing Dr. Drake's Discourse instead of 
Mr. Grimke's Oration, which, being first delivered, should have been 
first inserted in this volume. The publisher returned only in time to 
offer this explanation.] 



MR. GRIMKE's ORATION. 227 



ORATION 

ON THE COMPARATIV ELEMENTS AND DUTYS OF GRECIAN AND AMERICAN 

ELOQUENCE, 

BY THE HOJV. THOMAS S. GRIMKE, 

DELIVERD BEFORE THE ERODELPHIAN SOCIETY, OF MIAMI UNIVERSITY, AT 
THEIR ANNIVERSARY CELEBRATION, SEPTEMBER 23d, 1834. 

[Memorandum.— Having been long satisfy'd, that the orthography of the English language not 
only admitted but requir'd a reform; and believing it my duty to act on this conviction, I hav 
publislid sevral pamphlets accordingly. I felt that speculation on the propriety of the change 
was of little avail, wiWiovLX, practice. I therefore resolvd to set the example, at the hazard of 
ridicule and censure: and the charge of caprice or singularity. The changes in this piece 
consist chiefly, if not wholly, of the following. (1) The silent e is omitted in such classes of 
words as disciplin, respit, believ, creativ,publishd, remaind, evry, sevral, volly. (2) The e is 
suppressed and an apostrophe substituted, after the manner of the poets, where the simple 
omission of the e might change the sound of the preceding vowel from long to short, as in 
required, refined, deriv'd. (3) In nouns ending in y, I hav simply added an s to make the 
plural, instead of changing y into ie and then adding an s, as in plurality s, enmity s, harmonys, 
aristocracys. (4) In verbs ending in the letter y, instead of changing it into ie, and then ad- 
ding an s, or d, I retain the y, and add s or d: as in burys, buryd, varys, varyd, hurrys, hur- 
ryd. (5) In similar verbs, where the y is long, I retain the y, omit the e, and substitute an 
apostrophe, like the poets; as in multipbfs, multipbfd, satisfifs, satisfifd. (6) In such 
words as sceptre, battle, centre, I transpose the e, and write scepter, battel, center. (7) I sup- 
press one of two and the same consonants, where the accent is not on them: as in necesary, 
encelent, ilusirioas, recomend, efectual, iresistihle, worshipers. (8) In such words as honor, 
favor, savior, neighbor, savor, the u is omitted. (9) In adjectives ending in y, instead of 
forming the comparativ and superlativ by changing y into ie and adding er and est, I hav 
simply added the er and est, as in easyer, easyest, holyer, holyest, prettyer, prettyest. In 
quotations and proper names, I hav not felt calld upon to change the orthography.] 

Man, the noblest work of God in this lower world, walks abroad 
through its labyrinths of grandeur and beauty, amid countless mani- 
festations of creativ power and providential wisdom. He acknow- 
ledges, in all that he beholds, the might which calld them into being; 
the skill which perfected the harmony of the parts; and the benevo- 
lence which consecrated all to the glory of God, and the welfare of his 
fellow creatures. He stands entranced on the peak of Etna, or Ten- 
eritFe, or Montserrat, and looks down on the far distant ocean, silent 
to his ear and tranquil to his eye, amidst the rushing of tempestuous 
winds, and the fierce conflict of stormy billows. He sits enraptur'd 
on the mountain summit, and beholds, as far as the eye can reach, a 
forest robe, flowing in all the Ai^arietys of graceful undulation, over 
declivity after declivity, as tho' the fabulous river of the sky's were 
pouring its azure waves o'er all the landskip. He hangs over the 
precipice, and gazes, with awful delight, on the savage glen, rent 
open as it were by the earthquake, and black with lightning shatterd 
rocks; its only music, the echoing thunder, the scream of the lonely 
eagle, and the tumultuous waters of the mountain torrent. He re- 
clines, in pensiv mood, on the hill top, and sees around and beneath 
him, all the luxuriant beautys of field and meadow, of olivyard and 
vinyard, of wandering stream and grove-encircled lake. He de- 



228 MR. grimke's oration. 

scends to the plain, and amidst waving harvests, verdant avenues, 
and luxuriant orchards, sees between garden and grassplat, the farm 
house embosomd in copswood or "tall ancestral trees.'' He walks 
thro' the vally, fenced in by barrier cliffs, to contemplate with mild 
enihusiasm its scenes of pastoral beauty, the cottage and its blossomd 
arbor, the shepherd and his flock, the clump of oaks, or the solitary 
willow. He enters the cavern, buryd far beneath the surface, and is 
struck with amazement at the grandeur and magnificence of a sub- 
teranean palace, hewn out^ as it: were, by the power of the Genii, and 
decorated by the taste of Armida, or the Queen of the Fairys. 

Such is the natural world, and such, for the most part, has it ever 
been; since men began to subdue the wilderness, to scatter the orna- 
ments of civilization amid the rural scenery of nature, and to plant 
the city on the margin of the deep, the village on the hillside, and 
martial battelments in the defiles of the mountains. Such has been 
the natural world, whether beheld by the eye of savage or barbarian, 
of the civiliz'd or the refin'd. Such has it been, for the most part, 
whether contemplated by the harpers of Greece, the bards of North- 
ern Europe, or the voluptuous minstrels of the Troubadour age. Such 
it was, when its beautys, like scatterd stars, beamd on the page of 
classic lore; and such, when its "sunshine of picture" poured a flood 
of meridian splendor on modern Literature. Such is the natural 
world to the ancient and the modern, the pagan and the christian. 

Admirable as the natural world is for its sublimity and beauty, who 
would compare it, even for an instant, with the sublimity and beauty 
of the moral worldl Is not the soul, with its glorious destiny and its 
capacitys for eternal happiness, more awful and majestic than the 
boundless Pacific or the interminable Andes'? Is not the mind, with 
its thoughts that wander through eternity, and its wealth of intelect- 
ual power, an object of more intens interest, than forest, or cataract, or 
precipice^ And the heart, so eloquent in the depth, purity and pathos 
of its afections, can the richest scenery of hill and dale, can the mel- 
ody of breeze, and brook, and bird, rival it in lov'linessf 

The same God is the author of the invisible and the visible world. 
The moral grandeur and beauty of the world of man are equaly the 
children of his wisdom, power and goodness, with the fair, the sub- 
lime, the wonderful, in the physical creation. AVhat, indeed, are 
these but the outward manifestations of his might, skill, and benevo- 
lence? What are they but a glorious volume, forever speaking to the 
eye and the earof man, in the language of sight and sound, the praises 
of its author^ And what are those but images, faint and imperfect as 
they are, of his own incomprehensible attributes) What are they, 
the soul, the mind, the heart of an immortal being, but the temple of 



' 



MR. GKIMKE's OR\TIOrf. 229 

the Holy Spirit, the dwelling place of Him whom th-e heaven of heav- 
ens cannot contain, who inliabiteth eternity? How, then, can we 
compare, even for a moment, the world of nature with the world of 
man? God has bestowd upon man all the gifts of his natural provi- 
dence, whether for enjoyment or admiration: and the gift is as free, 
as rich, as various, in the modern as it was in the ancient world. 
And has he not granted to that modern world, the more precious, 
elex'ated, enduring gifts of the mind, as bountifully as to the ancients'? 
Does man, in the modern world, come forth from the hands of his 
Creator inferior in the endowments of his immortal spirit, to man in 
the ancient world] We know that the ancient world, in all the ma- 
terial forms of the visible creation, was not superior to the same ex- 
hibitions of the Divine Being in the modern world. And shall we 
believ that the same father of all, for purposes inscrutable to the hu- 
man mind, has made the modern man inferior to the ancient man? 
Let him believ it, who credits the absurd theory of European philos- 
ophy, that nature is degenerate in America. Let him believ it, who 
prefers the monstrous compounds of aristocracy and democracy in 
the Grecian states, to the order and simplicity of our American repub- 
lics. Let him believ it, who worships the idol of classic supremacy, 
and consoles himself for the degradation of modern genius, by the 
creed, that God has ordaind the modern inferior to the ancient mind. 
For myself, until I can believ that the starry sky's are less magnificent, 
the mountains less majestic, and the volcano less terrible, to the mod- 
ern than to the ancient eye — until I can behev, that the wild music of 
the ocean waves, the frantic rush of the cataract, the melody of sum- 
mer gale and babbling brook, speak not to the modern ear in the 
thrilling eloquence in which they spoke to the ancient ear — until I 
can behev these things, still may I hold inflexibly the faith that mod- 
ern mind, thro' all its departm-ents of intelect, duty and afection, is 
not in the least inferior to the ancient. 

This is the first broad position in the great controversy, as to the 
relativ merits of the Ancients and Moderns. 1 do not, however, pro- 
pose, at this time, to address you on a subject of far greater impor- 
tance than has been hitherto realiz'd: and demanding for its perfect 
development the hand of genius, learning and taste. The day will 
come, when a master mind shall arise in its might, and maj; America 
be the scene of this achievement of scholarship and patriotism, and 
challenge for the moderns that superiority in Literature, which I 
doubt as little, as I doubt their superiority, in ail that belongs to the 
structure and administration of government. For myself, I shall rest 
satisfy'd at this time, with presenting for your consideration, one of 
the subdivisions of that momentous and interesting topic. I trust the 

30 



230 

choice will be approv'd by the audience I address, and by the Society 
whose voice has conferd on me the priviLege of honoring their anni- 
versary by such a selection. The subject, then, which invites your 
attention, is — ''A Comparison of the Elements and Dutys of Grecian 
and American Eloquence.". I have not mentiond Roman Eloquence; 
because it is unquestionably inferior to that of Greece, in the noblest 
constituents of oratory: and besides, Greece presents richer and more 
various topics, and breathes more of the nature and spirit of free in- 
stitutions.. May I be excused for the apparent presumption of such 
a selection. I am not insensible to the magnitude and difficulty of 
the task; but I trust that the deficiencys of the scholar may be aton'd 
for by the zeal and lov' of the patriot. I feel that the subject I hav 
chosen, belongs to the holy department of duty to my country, and is 
linkd, as by the bonds of fate, with her destiny, influence, and glory, 
thro' many a century yet to come. 0! my country, thou richest gift 
of God to man, pre-eminent in the institutions which honor heavenj. 
and bless mankind, light and hope of the nations. 



•may thy renewn 



Burn in my heart, and give to thought and word, 
Th' aspiring and the radiant hue of fire." 

SamoTi B. l,p. 10. 

The natural order of our subject leads us to consider first, the ingre- 
dients and dutys of Grecian Oratory, and next, the elements and ob- 
ligations of American Eloquence. This second division will afford 
us the opportunity of making that comparison, which is a chief object 
of this address. How amply shall I be rewarded by the reflection, 
that I shall hav opend to the youthful students of eloquence among my 
countrymen, more animating views of their resources, a higher esti- 
mate of their dutys, and a prospect more glorious than patriot of an- 
cient or modern times ever beheld, down the vista of future ages. 

I hav assum'd as undoubted, the perfect equality of the modern to 
the ancient, in the inteiectual powers of the mind, the moral qualitys 
of the soul, and the afections of the heart. In the orator himself, 
these are obviously the instruments with which he is to work: and in 
the particular persons whom he addresses, they are, as it were, the 
very ch^.ds of the lyre of eloquence. These advantages are common 
both to the ancient and modern speaker; altho' the latter has this priv- 
ilege, beyond the former, that the moral qualitys of the soul and the 
afections of the heart hav been carryd to a degree of cultivation, far 
exceeding their state among the ancients; whilst, at the same time, a 
greater variety of human character offers itself, for the study of the 
modern, than the ancient ever beheld. It will be a principal object 



231 

of the following pages, not only to demonstrate, as I think can easily 
be done, the decided superiority of modern over ancient eloquence in 
the quality of its materials, but likewise to show that the ingredients 
of the former are more numerous and various than those of the latter. 
Perhaps it may be said, that this very fact constitutes one of the chief 
proofs of the necessary inferiority of modern eloquence. I shall be 
told that learning is not essential to the orator, and the fate of learnd 
eloquence must be that of Ronsard, the most erudite of French poets, 
no longer read,tho' still honord with the title, ''Prince of the Poets of 
France.-' I grant, that where learning becomes the substantial form, 
instead of the drapery of the statue, it must fail in its end, just as the 
Theseus of Euphranor stood condemn'd; because the hero appeard, 
from the delicacy and richness of the painting, to hav livd on roses. 
I admit that good taste must censure, where a poet, like Milton, in 
the greatest poem of all ages, scatters learning on every leaf, as 

a the gorgeous East, with richest hand, 



Showers on her kings barbaric pearl and gold." 

Par. Lost, B. 2, «. 3. 

But I speak not of learning in the sense in which Milton has displayd 
it, I speak of various, valuable, interesting knowledge; of knowledge 
that invigorates and enlarges the mind; that enriches the memory 
with a store of admirable allusions and striking illustrations; that 
expands and elevates the sense of duty; and refines, while it purify's 
and strengthens the afections. I speak of that knowledge which is 
not so much studyd to be rememberd, as to master all the principles 
which are involvd in it. I speak not of that knowledge which is 
treasured up simply 2ls facts; but of that which, having been developd 
in all its relations, enters as it were into the very structure of the mind, 
enhances its facultys of thought, improv's the disciplin of its intelect- 
ual powers, and enlarges its comprehonsiveness. Such knowledge 
does not make the learnd orator; but gives us a speaker of consummate 
wisdom, power, and skill. Nor let us forget, that altho' a profusion of 
knowledge overpowers and misleads an inferior mind, just as Draco 
was smotherd by the garments thrown in honor upon him; yet the 
superior mind, instead of being' (he slave, is the master of its knowlege. It 
is not the mirror to reflect objects, but the crucible to decompose mate- 
rials, and the mold to fashion them anew, in countless varietys of 
novel, beautiful and useful forms. Such is the office of the modern 
orator, in regard to his superiority over the ancient, in the number and 
variety of his resources: and if he discharge that office in a manner 
worthy of its dignity and value, he shall ascend, being equal in mind 
to bights of glory and excelence unattaind by Grecian or Roman Elo- 
quence. 



232 MR. grimke's oration. 

Let us now proceed to consider the elements of Grecian Eloquence* 
The orator of Athens, endowd, like his modern rival, with intelecty 
moral sense and feeling, sought for the materials of his art, in the reli- 
gious, political, and civil institutions of his countrjs in the state of 
society; in the actual condition of philosophy, literature, and general 
knowlege; in the history of his own and other states; in the biogra- 
phy of distinguishd men, both at home and abroad, and in the rela- 
tions of his own to other countrys. 

The first of these ingredients is religion. Whatever may bethought 
of the merits of Grecian mythology, as materials for poetry, it is man- 
ifest that it furnishes very inferior elements to the orator. As a sys- 
tem, if system such a mass of the absurd and the immoral, of folly and 
indecency, can be called, it has nothing to do with the understanding, 
or the heart, or the conscience. It is a scheme, as complete as ever 
was devised to brutalize the heart, darken the conscience, and de- 
grade the mind. Its only hold on popular opinion was that of preju- 
dice, and superstition. Its only claim on the highly educated was 
deriv'd from the fact that it was a national institution; but over them 
it exercised no salutary influence. It must hav degraded in their eys 
even the imperfect conceptions of the character and attributes of God, 
deriv'd from the hght of nature. I envy not the Grecian orator such 
materials. 

The civil and political institutions of the country were another 
source, whence Athenian eloquence drew its elements. Undoubt- 
edly we do not understand the structure and administration of ancient 
governments as welt as our own: and the great deficiency of the clas- 
sic historians, in the political philosophy of government, and the 
broader and deeper philosophy of society, ha§ contributed not a little 
to enhance the difficulty. Still, the enlightened common sense of ev- 
ry American rejects the civil and political institutions of Athens; be- 
cause he beholds in her history countless proofs of the irregularity and 
insufficiency of their action. The chief element to be found in them, 
fitted to afect the orator, was developd in the wild licentiousness of 
their democracy, equaly unprincipled, degrading, and violent; equaly 
marked by insolence, tyrany, and ingratitude. Shall we envy such 
an element of Athenian eloquence'? 

The state of society in Ancient Greece must have exercised a large 
influence over the orator. Yet who would desire to place American 
eloquence under the dominion of such a state of things? unless he 
could prevail on himself to adopt a system in which children were 
considered as the property of gods, cruel, unjust, and licentious, or 
the property of their country chiefly for the purposes of war; while 
woman was regarded as a prisoner for life, if not as a slave; and her 



MR. grimke's oration. 'i33 

accomplishments of mind and manners were reserved for the 
courtezan, for Aspasia,Phyrne, and Thais? May such characteristics 
of their state of society remain unenvy'd monuments of the barbarism 
even of polished Greece! 

The actual condition of philosophy, literature, and general knowl- 
edge, is a principal fund of eloquence. But among the Athenians, 
philosophy could hav exercis'd but a limited influence; because their 
orators either preceded, or were cotemporaneous with the great 
schools of antiquity. As to Literature, it is obvious, that with the 
exception of a few prose writers, the only authors, who could hav 
had any decided efect on the character of eloquence, were the poets. 
Without lavishing on them the extravagant praise so often bestowed, 
it is manifest that the tragic writers, especially, must hav contributed 
much to the dignity, vigor, and pathos of the orator; while comedy en- 
larg'd and diversifi'd his knowledge of human nature. With respect 
to the department of general knowledge, we know from the state of 
the arts and sciences, and from the very humble and imperfect condi- 
tion of geography, navigation, and travels, that a man possessed of no 
more general information than the most enlightened Athenian, would 
be regarded as narrow minded, and comparativly ignorant among the 
moderns. 

How imperfect must hav been the knowledge of history, both for- 
eign and domestic, may be seen at once from the fact, that Greece 
had no prose writer before Pherecydes, the predecessor of Herodotus 
in history; the Athenians themselves acknowledgd that they had no 
political records prior to Draco, (B. C. 624:) and the laws of Solon (B. 
C. 559) were preserved on blocks of wood. Ascending, for want of 
authentic antiquitys, to the fabulous ages of gods and demigods, of gi- 
ants, heros, and monsters, Grecian history could hav exercis'd but a 
limited influence over the orator. And when it is considered to how 
great an extent the politics of Greece were sta'mpd by fraud and vio- 
lence, by rapin, ambition, and injustice, we see that however much 
they may have influencd eloquence, we at least, hav no reason to covet 
a dominion over the mind, so base and selfish. When it is rememberd, 
also, that the history of Greece is almost wholly a narrative of civil 
and foreign wars, of domestic oppression, insolence, and dissension; 
that it consists so entirely of facts, with such imperfect developments 
of the character and action of civil and political institutions, we can- 
not but regard it as barren, compar'd to the works of Hume, Gibbon, 
Robertson, and Mosheim. 

The department of biography was far more perfect thau that of his- 
tory. Indeed the greater portion of ancient history is little more than 
a succession of biographys of public men: nor would it be difficult to 



2^ MR. grimke's oration. 

write the whole of ancient history in such a succession. There can be no 
stronger proof how unworthy national annals are of the name of histo- 
ry, when nearly the whole history of a people is found in the lives of a series 
<f warriors. Is not history in such a case the degraded slave of bio- 
graphy? So far as the political biography of Greece was known, and 
it was, as we hav seen, coextensiv with her history, we cannot doubt 
that it must hav exercis'd a large influence over ancient eloquence. 
But then it was the influence, with few exceptions, of the proud and 
selfish, of the ambitious, turbulent, and vindictiv, of the warrior and 
conqueror. Divested of the poetic drapery which classic literature, 
and our imaginations hav cast around them, the great men of Greece 
are not superior, in the elements of magnanimity, truth, and justice; 
of patriotism, sagacity, valor, and fortitude, to the North American In- 
dian. I feel that I do not degrade Athenian and Spartan chiefs by 
the comparison. I only elevate the Indian character to its true level. 
How little reason the modern orator has to envy such resources, must 
be known to all, who are acquainted, to name no other, with the sin- 
gle history of the Saracens. 

The relations of his own to other countrys were very limited and 
imperfect. It must have been so, when we consider that the Gre- 
cian states never had any relations with Carthage, and none with the 
Romans, of any consequence, till they became Roman provinces. It 
was the same with the countrys in Asia, as to which nearly all their 
relations arose out of selfish and ambitious wars. Let it be rememberd, 
also, that commerce and navigation were confin'd almost exclusivly 
to the Mediteranean, and indeed, as far as Greece was concerned, to 
the Sicilian, Ionian, and Egean seas, and to the Levant, Certainly 
the influences deriv'd from such imperfect and narrow foreign rela- 
tions, could not hav much enlarged the soul or fir'd the genius of an- 
cient eloquence. 

Such are the chief materials with which the Grecian orator had to 
work: and any one tolerably acquainted with the modern world must 
acknowledge, even without a formal comparison, that they are great- 
ly inferior to the correspondent elements possessed by the modern or- 
ator. How, then, shall I be askd, has it come to pass, that, in the 
general estimation of the moderns themselves, he is inferior to the an- 
cient speaker? I accept the suggestion, for the purpos of giving the 
conclusiv reply; a reply which demonstrates, beyond controversy, 
that if the modern be inferior to the ancient, he has only to imitate the 
example of the ancient, and he shall ascend the hights of eloquence 
as far above Athenian oratory, as the summits of the Andes trans- 
cend the Pindus, and Ossa, and Olympus of classic regions. 

And what is the secret of ancient eloquence'? It is to be found 



MR. grimke''s oration. 235 

here, that the ancient orator was subjected, from the cradle, to the full, 
undivided, never-varying ivjluence of the peculiar institutions of his own 
COUNTRY and of ms own age. The spirit of those institutions was for- 
ever Hving and moving around him; was constantly acting upon him 
at home and abroad; in the family, at the school, in the temple, on na- 
tional occasions. That spirit was unceasingly speaking to his eye and 
ear: it was his very breath of life: his soul was its habitation; till the 
battel field, or the sea, banishment, the dungeon, or the hemlock, 
strlpd him equaly of his country and his hfe. Is it wonderful that the 
Greek was eloquent?- Our wonder would rather be, if we did not 
know his deficiency in materials, that he was not still more eloquent. 
Turn now to Rome. How striking is the contrast between the Athe- 
nian and recorded Roman eloquence! The paralel for G-recian ora- 
tory must be sought in the age of the Gracchi. Then, the spirit of 
Roman institutions livd and mov'd with a fearful energy, derivd from 
the threefold combination of a proud aristocracy, a turbulent democ- 
racy, and the warlike character of the people. If we had the speech- 
es of Tiberius and Caius Gracchus, I doubt not that, except in style, 
they would not be at all inferior to the most celebrated harangues of 
Grecian orators. But in the age of Tully, the spirit of Roman institu- 
tions had perishd. Who does not realize this in the artificial declam- 
atory eloquence of the Romanl And altho' at times he appealed to it 
for strength and light, yet the coming of the indignant spirit at his 
call, was like the reluctant appearance of Samuel to Saul at Endor. 
Tully 's eloquence is but an inscription on the monument of that de- 
parted spirit. It is the faint, distant echo of his voice, not the voice 
of that hving spirit so aptly pourtrayd in the striking verses of Milman.. 



-Him delighted 



Helvellyn's cloud-clapt brow to climb, and share 
The eagle's stormy solitude : mid wreck 
Of whirlwinds and dire lightnings huge he stood ; 
"Where his own gods he deem'd on volleying clouds 
Abroad were riding, and black, hurricane." 

Samor,B.2,p.36. 

We hav thus presented the true cause of the excelence of Grecian el- 
oquence. How is it with the modern orator, whether in England or 
America] Whence arises his alegd inferiority] For myself I admit 
no such inferiority; for I doubt not that the best speakers, both of Eng- 
land and America, hav already surpassed the boasted orators of the 
Athenians. But why hav not the modern orators been still more em- 
inent] The answer is to be found in the revers of the fact, which 
constitutes the secrect of Grecian success. They hav not been yield- 



236 MR. geimjve's oration. 

ed up from infancy to the pure, undivided, unceasing influence of 
British and American institutions. On the contrary, the prime of life, 
for the acquisition of knowlege and the formation of character, is 
passd in breathing the spirit of Greek and Roman institutions, and in 
familiarizing the mind and heart with the principles and sentiments 
of ancient states of society. The genius of Christianity and of the pe- 
culiar political institutions of England and America form, during all 
this time, scarcely any part of his education. Hence, the young man, 
if he has been faithful to his classical studys, actually knows more, so 
far as depend on the school and college^ of Greek and Roman than of 
English or American history, biography, and literature. As far as 
depends on his public education, he is better fitted to be a Roman or 
Athenian citizen, than a British subject or an American citizen. I 
do not believ that I state these views too strongly, confining my re- 
marks simply to the system of public education. Shall the time never 
come, when the American shall no longer be bound an apprentice in 
boyhood, and youth, and early manhood, to the spirit of institutions 
breathing only war and carnage, ambition and selfishness, and all the 
caprice, ingratitude and insolence of popular licentiousness] When 
shall the genius of American institutions, hitherto deny 'd both the du- 
ty and authority of a parent, be admitted to the sacred, the precious 
office of folding his children to his bosom, and of filling them with his 
own spirit of life, and light, and love? "When shall that genius, mighty to 
bless and to save those children, rescue them from that bondage to an- 
cient, foreign, pagan, licentious institutions, and publish to the world, 

THAT NOBLEST DECLARATION OF AMERICAN INDEPENDENCE. Let but that 

genius arise and proclaim the glad tidings of Christian, American liberty 
in every school-house, academy, and college throughout the land, 
and the children of that day shall produce an order of eloquence more 
vigorous and comprehensiv, richer, purer, and more dignify'd, than 
Athenian, or even a modern audience has ever heard. Then shall 
the voice of a truly national eloquence, instinct with the life of Chris- 
tian and American institutions, be listend to in the halls of legislation 
and popular assemblys, from the pulpit and in courts of justice. That 
spirit, the essence of Christian and American institutions, shall fill the 
soul of the orator with her glorious presence, revealed in the power, 
and purity, and majesty of his thoughts. 

"»S/ie clothes him with authority and awe, 

Speaks from his lips, and in his looks gives law : 

His speech, his form, his action full of grace, 

And all his country beaming in his face." 

Cowper, p. 23, Table Talk. 

We have thus considcrd the reasons why ancient eloquence musthav 
attaind a high degree of perfection; and wo hav explaind the causes 



MR. grimke's oration. 237 

t)f the aleged inferiority of the modern. Let us now pass on to the 
Elements of American Eloquence: comparing them, in our progress, 
with those of Athenian oratory. 

Doubtless you all anticipate that I should name, as first in power 
and value, the Christian Religion, with the Old and New Testaments 
as text-books. The mountaineer enjoys firmer health, and more elas- 
tic spirits than the lowlander; because he breathes a purer air, whilst 
all the powers of his physical system are called to more vigorous, con- 
stant action. Such is Christianity compar'd to the mythology of 
<3reece. Will it not be granted, that the more sublime, comprehen- 
siv and enduring a religion is, the more it must be fitted to elevate, 
expand, an^ invigorate the soul of the oratorl The more a religion is 
pure, holy, beautiful, tender, the better must it be suited to draw out 
of the depths of the heart, all the sweetness, lov', and pathos, which 
inhabit there. The more it chalenges the scrutiny of all our mental 
powers, and the more it leads us onward, from hightto hight, in end- 
' less succession, the. more it must be calculated to breathe into the 
soul a masculin energy of thought, a fearless lov' of independence, 
and a spirit of investigation, never to be intimidated or subdued. How 
eminently is the religion of the Bible intelectual, spiritual, lov'ly, pa- 
thetic! How eloquent in its views of hfe, and death, and eternity! 
How transcendently eloquent, when it speaks of the character and 
attributes of Jehovah; of the adorable and spotless Lamb of God; of the 
ruin and redemption of man; of the spirits of just men made perfect; 
of the inumerable company of angels; and of a new heaven and a 
new earth! Who will not acknowledge, that the Institutes of Moses 
contain more consumate wisdom, more admirable common sense, 
than all the legislators and political writers of ancient Greece afordT 
Who will not grant, that in the book of Job alone, there is more of the 
moral and intelectual sublime, more of purifying, elevating sentiment, 
than in the whole body of Grecian poetryl And who will venture to 
deny, that in the single gospel of John, religion is exhibited with a 
power, depth, beauty, and persuasivness, such as the concenterd es- 
sence of all the moral philosophy of Greece and Rome can never ap- 
proach] 

In contemplating this element of American eloquence, we cannot 
but remark, that the whole body of Grecian literature seems, as it 
were, a beacon provided by our Creator to teach us how utterly insuf- 
ficient the light of nature is, to purify and enoble the soul, even with 
the aid of profound intelect, splendid genius, and accomplishd taste. 
Does it not seem as tho' Greece was ordaind, with all the advantages 
of an insulated pdsition; of a charming climate; of sublime and beau- 

31 



238 MR. GRIMKE^S ORATIOW, 

tiful scenery; of a mythology with much of the grand and the fair? 
and of institutions comparativly free, to demonstrate how far the liter- 
ature even of such a people must be inferior to a literature descended 
from heaven! And what a striking proof of the divinity of the Scrip- 
tures is afforded by the fact that such a people as the Jews, such a 
land as. Canaan, so inferior, in natural advantages, to the Greeks and 
their country, should hav produced, in the Old Testament, a body af 
political and theological institutes, of historical poetical,' and moral 
literature, far beyond all that had been accomplish d by Greece. Her 
literature is perfectly explicable by a reference to her history. He- 
brew literature, on the contrary, if regarded as human, is an utterly 
inexplicable phenomenon, in the history of the human race. 

It is this literature, with the Christian Testament, that we desire to 
hav laid, not merely as the corner stone, but as the entire foundation 
of American Eloquence. On this basis stand our civil and political,, 
and all our literary, benevolent, and social institutions. So far as 
they breathe a Christian spirit, they are worthy of the Rock of Ages on 
which they rest: so far as they are unworthy, they must and will be 
reformd. Now, what is the spirit of the civil and political institutions 
of America! Is it not free, magnanimous, and wise, frank and cour- 
teous, generous and just, in a degree far surpassing that of ancient 
Greece) Who would suffer, much less institute, a comparison between 
our national government and the council of AmphyctionI or between 
cur state systems, and the compound of monarchy, aristocracy, and 
democracy, to be found in the Grecian states'? If the Athenian orator 
was kindled by the contemplation of that council, and of those states, 
how much more must the American orator be animated and strength- 
end by the study of the corresponding institutions of these United 
States! As fountains of noble thoughts, and high aspirations after 
public power, duty, and happiness, far beyond the triumphs of anti- 
quity, who does not look with a virtuous pride, with grateful exulta- 
tion, on the senate of the United States, on the chamber of national 
representatives, and on the supreme court of the United States? If 
the system of the Grecian exceld that of other ancient states, in its 
fitness to develop intelectual and moral freedom and power, who will 
not acknowlege, in the civil and political institutes of our country, a 
far superior capacity for the same ends'? What is there in the con- 
stitution or administration of the Greek governments, that can fill the 
soul of a freeman with such a sense of his own dignity, power, and 
duty, as our written constitutions, the jury system, and the laws of 
evidence, the scheme of representation, the responsibility of rulers, 
and the independence of the judiciary! And what, in the most glo- 
rious age of Greece, was comparable to the present position of our 



MR. GRIMKe's ORATION. 239 

countryl so august, magnanimous, and benevolent, in the eyes of 
the world: and to the prospect before us, not of selfishness, ambition, 
and violence, at home and abroad; but of harmony, virtue, and wis- 
dom at home; abroad, of duty, usefulness, and lov' to all the nations 
fo the earth, 

The Hierary institutions of our country are, as yet, but an embryo, 
in comparison of what they must become, to be worthy of, and suitable 
to the nation. We cannot but observ how the struggle to maintain, 
in all our seminarys, a foreign and pagan influence, against the right- 
ful dominion of Christian and American institutions, is leading a mul- 
titude to think, who never thought before of the subject, and is grad- 
iialJy producing salutary changes. This great controversy, which 
may be considered as just begun, is itself a rich source of the noblest 
thoughts which belong to the department of duty to God, of useful- 
ness to our country, and of benevolence to all mankind. How com- 
prehensiv, how solemn is the position, '*The whole system of Edu- 
cation J» DESTIND TO UNDERGO AN AMERICAN REVOLUTION, IN A HIGHER 
AND HOLIER SENSE OF THE TERM THAN THAT OF '76, BY THE SUBSTITUTION 
OF A COMPLETE CHRISTIAN AMERICAN EDUCATION, FOR THE STRANGE AND 
ANOMALOUS COMPOUND OF THE SPIRIT OF ANCIENT, FOREIGN, HEATHEN 
STATES OF SOCIETY, WITH THE GENIUS OF MODERN, AMERICAN, CHRISTIAN 
INSTITUTIONS." 

Can we pass unnotic'd the benevolent institutions of our country? 
Who is not proud that Christian America exhibits such a vast and 
complicated system of charitable operations calculated to exert on so- 
ciety a generativ influence, far more powerful, pure, and virtuous, 
than the combin'd action of all the ancient systems'? If the develop- 
ment of a power to enlighten and direct the conscience, to soften and 
purify the afections, to banish vice and crime, to establish peace, jus- 
tice, and concord, be adapted to fill the soul with sublime thoughts, 
with generous sentiments, with lov'iy feelings, who will deny that 
our system of benevolent enterprise is a fountain of the richest and 
noblest eloquence! I should rejoice to see that system become, as it 
one day must, a department of all education; for who, in a Christian 
land, is absolvd from the obligation of aiding, with his voice and his 
pen, his wealth, influence, and example, the cause of Christian enter- 
prise, in all its forms'? Fix the eye, with the intensness of an eagle's 
gaze, on ancient Greece, and what can you discover there, compara- 
ble in the magnitude of its objects, and the benevolence of its princi- 
ples, in usefulness, durability, and comprehensivness, to the Great 
Cause, whose circle, co-extensiv with the world, embraces the Bible 
and Tract, Missionarys and Sunday-schools, Temperance, Education, 
:and Peace. From such fountains, what melody of pure and bright 



240 MR. grimke's oration. 

waters must pour all the music of eloquence into the very soul of the 
orator! 

I shall speak but of one of our social institutions — the condition of 
woman in Christian America. Look at her in Greece, and then in 
our country. Which shall eloquence select as a theme? Let the 
barreness of ancient literature in female character give the answer. 
Could it be otherwise, when the v/oman of ancient Greece, if virtuous, 
was the slave of her parents and the captiv of her husband] To com- 
pare the poetry, the eloquence, the hterature, which has sprung in 
modern times from the character and influence of woman, with the 
same in antiquity, would be to compare the starry heavens to the 
flower enameld medow. The works of Scott alone exhibit a greater 
variety of the grand, the pathetic, the beautiful, in female character, 
than all the classic writers of antiquity. We desire to see the dignity 
and value, the lov'liness and purity, of female character, made a 
branch of education for both sexes* Breathe into the souls of the 
young high and holy thoughts of the wife, mother, daughter, sister. 
Kindle in their minds an admiration of the educated woman. Thrill 
their hearts with gratitude, and dew their eyes with tears, at the 
fidelity, fortitude, and tenderness of woman, and you will have done 
more for the glory of God, and for the happiness and civilization of 
mankind, than all the classics could ever accomplish. And what 
eloquence must arise from such a spring! How pure and rich, how 
beautiful and afecting! Scatterd thro' the pages of a deep, mascUlin 
oratory, 

"Its veins like silver shine, 

Or as the chaster hue 
Of pearls, that grace some sultan's diadem." 

Curse ofKehamtty 1 vol. p. 69. 

Is it wonderful, then, that I should mourn over the infatuation which 
banishes the genius of our civil and political institutions, of Christian 
benevolence, and of female character, from the halls of education? 
Still less wonderful is it, with the conceptions which I hav of their 
power and value, that I should regard it as a national calamity, that 
these fountains of an eloquence far nobler, richer, better than Greece 
or Rome could boast, should not send forth their waters, a daily draft 
for American youth. But my consolation is, that the genius of Chris- 
tianity and the spirit of American institutions, cannot, will not, al- 
ways brook such an infringement of their rights, and such deep in- 
justice to their children. That genius and that spirit will yet create, 
out of their regenerate sons, the noblest speaker man has ever heard, 
The Christian American Orator, 



MR. gbimke's oration. 241 

The next element of American Eloquence is to be found in the 
actual condition of philosophy, literature, and general knowlege. 
Shall I be told that modern literature is of little value to the orator; and 
that the elements of classic literature are all sufficient] Such an 
answer may well be given by schools and colleges, since they exclude 
the whole of modern literature from education. But, to say nothing 
of its extraordinary merits, let us only consider in how many import- 
ant features it differs from the ancient, and we shall at once acknow- 
lege it to be more important; because its distinctive features are de- 
riv'd from our modern, not from our ancient state of society. The 
total banishment of mythological machinery, and the substitution 
either of Christianity, or of the conflict and triumph of the human 
passions, has wrought a great change. The natural machinery of 
the passions appears to hav been so little understood by the ancients 
that the novels of Scott exhibit a greater and more splendid variety 
than all the classic poets. Can it be deny'd that such poets must be 
barren, in the materials of eloquence, in comparison with modern 
writers of fiction? And what a mighty change has been accomplishd 
by the adoption of the characters, sentiments, and manners of the age 
of chivalry, instead of the coarse and insolent, the self-sufficient and 
inhuman, the half savage and half barbarian heroism of the IHad and 
.jEnied. Who would not blush to compare the Godfrey, Tancred, 
and Rinaldo of Tasso, with the Agamemnon. Achilles, and Ajax of 
Homer? or the Rogero and Zerbino, the Bradamanj; and Marphisa of 
Ariosto, with the -ffineas, Pallas, and Camilla of Virgil? Who, as he 
travels with the speed of joy itself, along the spirit-stirring lines of 
Ariosto? Who, as he moves along the graceful and majestic verse of 
Tasso, 



to the Dorian mood 



v^ Of flutes and soft recorders, 

Far. Lost, B. I, v. 550. 

does not acknowledge in them a power, far beyond the epics of Greece 
and Rome to fill the soul with august and generous thoughts? Can 
we be insensible to the vast accumulation of literary wealth, deriv'd 
from the wonderful variety which modern authors command? The 
want of diversity in character, afforded by the ancient states of society, 
is one of the defects of their literature. There is, for example, a 
greater variety of character in the Orlando Furioso than in all the epics 
of antiquity: and the same is true of Shakspeare, in relation to the 
classic dramatists. 

To say nothing of the classic periods of Greece and Rome still open 
to modern writers, what an endless diversity of character is to be 



242 MR. GRIMKfi's ORATION. 

found in the Gothic ages of the fall of the Roman Empire, in the dark 
ages, in the middle ages, in that of Lorenzo and Leo, of Francis and 
Elizabeth, of Louis and Ann! How is that diversity still farther check- 
erd, by the institutions of the Catholic church, and of the orders of 
knighthood; by the crusades and the wars with the Moors of Spain; 
by the rich variety of national character in Europe alone; and the end- 
less diversity brought to light by the discoverys of modern navigation'? 
And are these of no, value to the comprehensiv and powerful mind of 
the oratorl He only will say so, who knows not that the great and 
accomplishd orator demands and acquires a knowledge of human na- 
ture, in its universal character, as the attribute of one race; in its na- 
tional features, as changing from age to age, and from land to land; 
in its social elements, as developd in the community around him; in 
its ^ersonaZ quahtys, as exhibited in individuals. But the mightiest 
revolution which has been wrought in modern literature has resulted 
from the universality of female character and female influence through- 
out the whole of society; and from their transfusion into evry depart- 
ment of literature. On account of its deficiency in these peculiar el- 
ements, the literature of a'ntiqiiity is like the garden of Eden, before 
the majesty of man, and the beauty of woman, gave to it a sublime 
and touching character, as the habitation of spotless, immortal beings. 
Or if I may borrow from the magnificent epic of Miltnan,! would ilus- 
trate that glorious change in the Temple of Literature, by a passage 
unrivald in grandeur, richness, and beauty, by 'aught to be found in 
the pages of Homer and Virgil. 



-As when, in heroic, pagan song, 



Apollo to his Clarian temple came ; 
At once the present Ged-head kindled all 
Th' elaborate architecture ; glory-wreath'd 
The pillars rose ; the sculptur'd architrave 
Swam in the liquid gold ; the worshipper, 
Within the vestibule of marble pure, 
Held up his hand before his blinded eyes, 

And so adored :- " 

Samor, B. 11, p. Q3S. 

Modern philosophy, In all its departments, political, moral, and inte- 
lectual, has renderd the study of the ancients, in those branches, en- 
tirely unnecessary to the modern orator. We hav embodyd in our 
systems all that was valuable in antiquity; whilst we hav drawn from 
the inexhaustible spring of the Scriptures, and the rich deep fountain 
of British and American freedom, purer and more healthful waters 
than the ancienta ever tasted. Who is prepar'd to deny, if philoso- 



MR. grimke's oration. 243 

phy be valuable to the orator, as all will grant, that ours must exercise 
a more commanding and salutary influence than all that the Greek 
and Roman languages hav preservd? 

The general knowlege of the moderns bears to that of the ancients 
a far greater proportion, in point of extent and accuracy, than a mod- 
ern map of the world bears to an ancient. General knowlege is in- 
dispensable to the orator; not that he is expected to use the hun- 
dredth part of what he possesses, but because it is indispensable to 
that enlargement of mind, to that completeness of preparation, which 
are with him a high duty. Giv to the great orator all the extent and 
variety of information which the modern state of knowledge afords, 
and is he confounded by the extent, or bewilderd amidst the diversity"? 
The quick experienced eye of a great captain surveys the most exten- 
siv battel scene, and comprehending, by glances, all the intricacys of 
detail, and all the grouping of masses, he considers, selects, decides, 
on all which the crisis demands. It is the same with the eminent 
orator. His eye ranges over the wide circuit of general knowlege, 
and chooses whatever he needs, with unerring sagacity and taste. 
When the celebrated German mathematician, Koenig, exhibited, with 
great exultation, to Bernouilli, an elaborate demonstration, which had 
cost him much time and labor, the Swiss, during dinner, wrought 
out in his own mind a concise and clearer demonstration, and pre- 
sented it to his host before he left him. 

Thus, alsOjBossuetis said, at the first reading of the work of Claude, 
the great protestant antagonist, of the bishop of Meaux, to hav poin- 
ted out seven hundred objections; while Cardinal du Perron, on pe- 
rusing the memorable book of Du Plessis Mornay on the Eucharist, 
suggested about two thousand difficultys.* 

We find in modern all that is admirable and interesting in the 
qualitys of ancient history; for the annals of the middle ages alone 
contain more to delight and interest us than either Greek or Roman 
story. The events are of greater magnitude, the scenery of national 
character, of manners and customs more various, magnificent, and 
novel; the theatre of action more extensiv and important, and the ac- 
tors themselves under the influence of higher and nobler motivs than 
in the classic historians. Let us now embrace the whole range of 
modern history, with the age of Ferdinand and Isabella, the discove- 
rys of Gama and Columbus, of Vespucco and Cabot; with the era of 
the fall of Constantinople, of the Medici, Leo and Sixtus 5th, of Fran- 

* I quote these two from memory, as to the numbers, not having been able to find 
the anecdotes in the books I hav had an opportunity of consuhing in Cincinnati. I 
obtained them from L'Advocal's "Dictionnaire Portatif." 



244 

cis 1st, Charles 5lh, and Elizabeth; with the age of the Reformation, 
the thirty years' war, the history of the Hugonots, the Puritans, and 
the Batavian republic; with the period of Louis 14th and Queen Ann, 
of Peter the Great and Charles 12th, of Frederic the Great and Cath- 
arine the 2d; of the British, American, and French revolutions of 1688, 
1776, and 1789, and the war of Infidelity against Christianity. We 
ask then, with a just pride and a triumphant confidence, what hav 
the ancient historians, comparable to all this, in value, dignity, and 
variety; and in all that depth of interest, which is kindled in our 
souls, by the contemplation of this magnificent and striking panora- 
ma? Even in that ever-shiiftng, splendid, and marvelous scenery, 
which constitutes the romance of history, not only in the lives of indi- 
viduals, but in the fortunes of armys and nations, modern history from 
the greater variety of its elements, both national and personal, far ex- 
cels the narrativs of Greece and E-ome. 

The same remarks apply to biography; with the addition still far- 
ther in favor of the modern, that an entire department has been ad- 
ded, of immense value and unrivald interest. I refer to the lives of 
the great Christian Reformers, of eminent missionarys, and of women 
equaly ilustrious, by their virtues, and the cultivation of their minds. 
What paralel can be found in antiquity for the lives of Luther, and 
Calvin, and Knox, of Zuinglius, Melancthon, and Wesley; of Eliot, 
Martyn, Schwartz, and Las Cases; of Guyon, Grey, De Stael, Carter, 
and Moore? And are not such a history and biography, as the mo- 
dern world afords pre-eminently fitted to exercise more commanding 
influence over the soul of the orator, than all the historians and bi- 
ographers of classic ages] Independently of the greater importance 
of modern history and biography, (because our own state of society, 
and government, and all our relations, at home and abroad, are so di- 
rectly founded on them,) they furnish materials for eloquence of a 
higher order, than the ancients. Let the American orator be well ac- 
quainted with ancient history, as a department ofg-e?2eraZknowlege; but 
let him hQ profoundly versd in modern history, and especialy in the his- 
tory of his own country, as an indispensable branch of his education. 
Indeed, until our colonial and national history and biography shall be 
brought to bear on the minds and hearts of youth, we cannot expect 
our young men to understand the value, character, and cost of our li- 
berty and independence. 

The relations of his own with other countrys are a rich fund of in- 
formation to the orator. How few, how narrow, how unimportant, 
were the relations of the ancient states, compar'd to those of our own 
country and of modern Europe! Rightly considered, how full of a 
sublime and pathetic interest are these! Are not the relations of mil- 



245 

liions in two hemispheres, incomparably more important and afFocting 
than those which subsisted among the states of antiquity, whose ocean 
was the Mediterranean; whose continent was little more than the 
circumambient shores of that inland sea? The Christian religion, and 
modern commerce; the modern law of nations, and the balance of 
power; the vastly extended and complicated colonial establishments; 
the refin'd and consummate diplomacy of modern times; the progress 
of liberty; the popular sway of the press; the increasing influence of 
free states over the despotisms of Europe; and the growth of a public 
sentiment even among nations, all contribute to render the present 
state- of the world, a spectacle beyond all comparison, more sublime 
and interesting than any period of antiquity. The eras of the British, 
American, and French revolutions so far excel the whole of ancient 
history, in lessons of precious instruction to the statesman, and in 
materials of the loftiest eloquence to the orator, as to set all paralel at 
defiance. "Who Would compare the question of war between the 
North American provinces and the mother country, with that be- 
tween Athens and her colonys in Asia Minor! What a prodigious 
difference between the contests of Rome and Carthage, and those of the 
modern Romans and the modern Carthagenians! The wars of the 
French revolution alone, combine more of the grand and terrible, more 
of science and skill, more of sufferings, vicissitudes, and glory, than 
the whole of Roman history. 

What question of antiquity bears any paralel, in the elements of 
a sublime, comprehensiv, pathetic, oratory, to the question of a Regi- 
cide Peace, so vigorously and eloquently discussd by Mr. Burkel Or 
what, to the question of conciliation with America, as exhibited in the 
nervous, bold, and simple speeches of Chatham, or in the profound 
and fervid pages of the greatest of orators, Edmund Burke] Can you 
find thro' all antiquity, any question for the statesman, patriot, and 
christian, for the philanthropist, philosopher, and moralist, compara- 
ble to the abolition of the slave trade, or to the trial of Warren Has- 
tings, the seven bishops, the Dean of St. Asaph, or Peltier? And to 
speak of our own country, can Grecian or Roman annals furnish a 
paralel, in the importance of the principles, or the magnitude of in- 
terests, to the Debates on the Declaration of Independence, and the 
National Constitution; on the repeal of the Judiciary Bill, of the elder 
Adams, the war of 1812, Foote's Resolutions, and the removal of the 
deposits. Who would exchange the intelectual power, political wis- 
dom, and masterly reasoning; the consummate eloquence, spirit and 
independence, and masculin dignity of the national senate, during 
its recent session, for aught that Greece and Rome could aford? Why 

32 



246 MR. cmMKK's ORATION. 

then should the future orators of America be traind to the study, noK 
only of ancient and foreign institutions, but of states of society, and 
domestic and foreign relations, so totally different as to shed no light 
on those of his own country? Who does not feel when he reads Er- 
skine, or Burke, or Pitt, that he is listening to an orator, who is bone 
of his bone, and flesh of his flesh, on a subject kindred to his own 
souH And who does not realize, when reading Demosthenes or Ci- 
cero, that he hears a foreigner, one indeed of the mighty dead, but a 
stranger still, and that the harangue is to his mind and heart as a tale 
of fiction? How, by an almost miraculous power, must a man hav 
become a hermit, in the wilderness of antiquity, self-banished out of 
the glorious and beautiful world of modern Europe, and of his own 
country, if he does not realize these truths'? How by a mournful, un- 
natural fatality, must he hav traveld backward in the march of socie- 
ty, and the conquests of the human mind, if the orations of the Athe- 
nian and Roman can stir his soul, like the eloquence of Burke, Sher- 
idan, and Macintosh, or of his own Webster and Clay! 

We have thus surveyd the chief points of resemblance between 
the materials of the ancient and modern orator. We hav assignd in 
our comparison of them a decided superiority to the latter. We hav 
not, as yet considerd the motivs and dutys of ancient, as compar'd 
with those of American Eloquence; because it has appeard prefera- 
ble to present them in one view, rather than in paralels. Before we 
enter on this branch of our subject an important consideration presents 
itself. Our conceptions of ancient eloquence, confine it to legislativ 
and organiz'd popular assemblys, and to the forum. It is notso with 
the modern. We hav not only a richer, more dignified, and impor- 
tant department in the pulpit, but popular meetings of various de- 
scriptions, and societies of commanding influence and immense im- 
portance to the country, are continually summoning forth in the pub- 
lic service, because in the service of the people, the talents, knowl- 
edge, and experience of our. best speakers. Here are new fields for 
the American orator, untrodden by, indeed totally unknown to, the 
ancient. Our elements must be sought in the modern, not in the an- 
cient world. These three departments, the Christian, the purely 
popular, and the benevolent demand from the American speaker a 
preparation to be sought for in vain a:mong the eloquent records of an- 
tiquity^ The genius of the age in which he livs, and the spirit of 
American institutions, can alone touch his heart and inflame his ima- 
gination; enlighten his understanding and enrich his memory. 

There is another important consideration, intimately connected with 
the preceding. We hav said that he is calld forth into the service of 
the people; and this is still more remarkably true in another respect. 



MR. grimke''s oration. 247 

They are his audience. A nation, not a city, arb-'his spectators. 
He speaks not merely to influence the hundreds who hear him; but 
thousands and tens of thousands who never saw his face, or hsteiid 
to his voice. To them he must speak thro' the press, that master- 
piece of modern genius, that master-workman in the cause of the peo- 
ple. Delivery, the aZZ of eloquence, iii the opinion of Demosthenes, 
becomes the almost nothing of eloquence in the judgment of the Amer- 
ican orator. What tho' he has not 

"An eye more eloquent than angel's tongue;" 

1 Kehama^ 80. 

What though he is not array'd in attitude and gesture, 

"Graceful as robe of Grecian chief ©f old ;" 

■ 1 Kehama, 70. 

What tho' he speaks not with a voice so clear, thrilling, musical, that 
■each, who listens entranc'd and delighted, seems 

"As one, who in his grave 
Hath heard an angel's call ;" 

1 Kehama^ 31. 

What tho' he speaks not with all that transcendent eloquence of the 
outward man, so admirably described by Milman; when Samor, in 
Ihe island fortress of Gorlois, utters 

"Words potent as the fabled wizard's oils. 
With the terrific smoothness of their fire 
Wide sheeting the hush'd ocean ; 

■ • they spread 

Beyond the sphere of sound, th' indignant brow. 
The stately "waving of the arm discours'd 
-. Flovv'd argument from every comely limb. 

And the whole man was eloquence ;" 

Samor,- B. 10, jo. 219. 

What tho' the American orator has none of these advantages; let him 
not despair, if he feels the spirit of eloquence living and moving with- 
in him. The even-handed justice and magic power of the press lev- 
els all outward distinctions. Speeches the most ineloquent, and the 
mostaccomphshd in delivery, appear alike, when born anew through 
the press. In the Hindoo mythology, the face of Sceva is, to the eys 
of the beholder after death, the mirror of his own character, divested 
of all the outward advantages of earth. To the virtuous it is radiant 
and lov'ly, and full of ineffable grace: to the wicked, darkness and 
wrath and terror are its attributes. In like manner, the speaker van- 



248 MR. grimke's oratiok. 

ishes away, and the press is to the orator as a writer, that awful face. 
There he beholdshimself as he is, the once painted butterfly, or musical 
bird of a season, or the phoenix of centurys. Let not the American 
orator despair then, tho' he is denyd the advantages both of nature 
and art. The voice of his Hps may have been scarcely heard, and 
scarcely listend to; but if immortal eloquence inhabit his soul, the press 
will register his thoughts on imperishable pages, and scatter them 
fast and far, as the drops of the huricane rain, or the flakes of the 
snow storm. What tho' he shall then be neither seen nor heard; yet 
the voice of his spirit shall speak to the spirits of thousands throughout 
the world, and of millions yet unborn. What a glorious privilege 
thus to speak, soul to soul, to the divine and the scholar, in their 
studys; to the legislator and jurist in their halls, of deliberation and 
judgment; to the christian and philanthropist, in their walks of use- 
fulness; to the mariner abroad on every sea; and to the farmer at home, 
on a thousand hills, and in a thousand vallys. 

There is another consideration connected with the preceding. I 
hav said that the field of eloquence in America is more spacious than 
that of antiquity; because we hav the christian, benevolent, and pure- 
ly popular departments, in addition to all that the ancients possessd. 
But there is another important branch of eloquence entirely unknown 
to Greece, and which is fitted to exercise a commanding influence 
over the minds of the people. I refer to the eloquence of the literary 
department, whether of the periodical press, of anniversary orations 
and addresses, or of occasional pamphlets, written for the instruction 
and to promote the welfare of the people. How often do we meet with 
compositions, in one or other of these forms that deserve in the high- 
est sense of the term, to be calld orations, on account of their noble 
and important subjects, the vigor, beauty, and finish of the style, the 
profound thinking, the admirable reasoning, and the eloquent passa- 
ges which they contain. These are all sending forth, daily, weekly, 
or monthly, quarterly, or annually, their influence over all our land. 
What avast amount of writing solely for the people! (and indeed all 
that is written and spoken in this country is for them,) thus flows con- 
tinualy in a thousand channels, more or less broad, deep, and perma- 
nent. How does it scatter every where? the intelligence, fervor, and 
beauty of Christian American Eloquence, instinct with a sense of du- 
ty, the spirit of usefulness, and the lov' of God, country, and the hu- 
man race. 

Let me now ask your attention to the conclusion which flows irre- 
sistibly from the preceding views. Is it not seen at once, that the 
great object of the American orator must be, to become an accomplishd 
WRITER rather than an accomplishd speaker? If he consult duty, useful- 



MR. GRIMKE's ORATIOX. 249 

ness, durable reputation, a just pride, and pure exalted enjoyment, 
he will cultivate the art of composition, with unwearyd assiduity and 
zeal. It cannot bedenyd that the great majority of cuUivated minds 
in our country, and the number must be continually increasing, are 
constantly addressing the public thro' the press; and that the few, 
comparativly, who speak in our various assemblys, produce little or 
no effect on the people at large, unless their speeches are read in 
pamphlets or newspapers. Christian American Eloquence, emfiocZi/'c? 
thro' the press, must then be regarded as the great circulating medium 
of popular influence, to enlighten, elevate, and bless the people. If 
it accomplish not these objects it has livdin vain, and shall perish un- 
der the withering frown and consuming eye of popular indignation. 
Let me notice here another important circumstance which distin- 
guishes the field and opportunitys of American from those of Grecian 
Eloquence. The spacious departments which we hav added, the 
fact that ours, to so vast ail extent, is written eloquence, and the very 
interesting and important fact, that it is addressd, not only to hun- 
dreds of thousands, but to persons possessd of such diversitys of 
character, in point of virtue and intelligence, all go to prove that we 
require, not only many hundreds of eloquent writers for the sake of 
the people, but that there is no necessity, whatever, that all should be 
gifted wuh powers of the highest order. Greece could tolerate, be- 
cause she wanted only first rate orators. But while America must 
hav, and will always hav such men, she must also hav hundreds of 
second rate, and even third rate mjnds, devoted to the cultivation of 
written eloquence, in all its popular forms. Let none be discourag'd, 
tho' they feel not, in the depths of their own souls, that energy and enthu- 
siasm which bear aloft the great orator to the Alpine hights of eloquence. 
"What a glorious distinction and privilege is this, that so many minds, 
so useless under other institutions, are calld forth among us to honor 
and bless their country! In this view, the office of American Elo- 
quence would be pre-eminent in dignity and value^ tho' we never 
had rivald, and never should surpass, the oratory of classic ages. 

We now proceed to consider the dutys of American, as compared 
with those of Grecian Eloquence; and we shall assert the same de- 
cided superiority of the former over the latter, which we elaimd for 
the materials of the modern over those of the ancient orator. Indeed 
if those surpass these, it would seem to be a conclusion of the clearest 
logic, that the obligations must partake of the same superior character. 
"We assign, as a matter of course, higher dutys and objects to the 
sculptor, who calls into being, out of costly marble, the friezes of the 
Parthenon, Olympic, Jove, or the group of Lacoon, than to the carver 



250 am. gei3ike's oration. 

who fashions his images of wood, and decorates them with rich colors 
and splendid gilding. 

The dutys of the American orator spring out of his materials, and 
derive from that source the strength and extent of their obligations, 
and their capacity for enlarg'd, permanent, and honorable usefulness. 
As the traveler, amidst the four hundred glaciers of the Alps, can 
pause to contemplate only the more lofty and picturesque of those 
sublime and magnificent summits, so can we bestow our attention on- 
ly on the prominent points in the sphere of duty allotted to American 
Eloquence. 

We begin with the best and the noblest.. In the mythology of Ilin- 
doston, the Ganges, thehohest and most efficacious of sacred streams, 
is fabled to rise on Mount Meru under the roots of the tree of life, and 
thence descending to earth, it purify's and saves the faithful children 
of Brama. American Eloquence, in like manner, if true to its august 
and benevolent office, will ever acknowlege.a heavenly source in the 
Christian Religion. Hence springs the first and highest department 
of duty. Regarding ourselves as beyond example an educated, 
thinking, reading people, religion becomes invested, in this country., 
with a dignity and importance unknown in any other. Hence the 
relations of American Eloquence to Christianity are impressd with pe- 
culiar solemnity and value. And when we reflect on the popular 
character of all our institutions, and the tendency to irregularity and 
licentiousness, the necessity of religion becomes still more conspicu- 
ous, and the office of American Eloquence correspondently moment- 
ous and exalted. Let then the orator of our country never forget that 
the advancement of Christianity is the ^rsf of his great public dutys. 
Tho' it spring from no office, and be secured by no sanctions of oath 
or penalty, I call it apufiZzcduty, because it is a duty to the people, to 
the whole people, to the living around him, and to the unborn of fu- 
ture ages. When the ancient orator askd for his dutys on the subject 
of religion, what was the answer? You must uphold a system equaly 
absurd and superstitious. You must countenance the imposture of 
oracles, the frauds of the priesthood, licentious festivals, and im- 
pure mysterys. You must honor and worship gods equaly cruel and un- 
just, capricious, vile, and vulgar. With Numa, you must pretend to 
the heavenly mission of Egeria; with .Epaminondas, you must invent 
a miracle in the temple; or, with the dying Socrates, offer a coCk to 
Esculapius. As far as the east is from the west, or the heavens from 
the earth, so far is the American orator's sphere of religious duty re- 
mov'd from the dark and degrading office of heathen eloquence. His 
duty is to worship, and torecomend to the adoration of all, a God infi- 
nit in power, wisdom, and benevolence. To contribute, according 



MR . grimke's oration . 25 1 

to his opportunitys and ability, to strengthen, extend, and honor a 
religion conspicuous for holiness and beauty, purity and usefulness, 
the religion of glory to God, of peace on earth, and good will towards 
men; the religion, at once, of the soul, the mind, and the heart. Be 
it his duty to recomend and scatter evry where, the Bible, as a more 
glorious monument of the character and attributes of God than the 
starry heavens, with all the marvelous discoveries of modern astrono- 
my. Be it his duty to recomend it as more sublime and pure in its 
philosophy, more grave, dignify'd, and faithful in its history, more 
commanding and touching in its eloquence, more august, rich, and 
lov'ly in its poetry, than the whole body of classic records. Be it his 
duty to promote its influence, as essentially, indissolubly the religion 
of order and peace, of brotherly lov', and of mutuality in kind offices; 
of all the highest, holyest charitys of life; and of all the nameless, 
countless beautys which flow from the politeness of Christian benev- 
olence. Be it his duty to honor and advance it as indeed, pre-emi- 
nently. The Religion of the People. 

The next great class of dutys for the American Orator is, in some 
branches, identical with the preceding. I refer to the obligations un- 
der which he lies to all those associations, religious, benevolent, and 
literary, which exist, by thousands, evry where in our land. A man 
must be unconscious of the sights and sounds of the ever-moving, 
ever-speakin-g world around him, if he does not see in the giant 
strength, comprehensiv action, and endless ramifications of this new 
socialsystem, a power, till within a few years, unknown in the history 
of man. Who does not at once behold in them a striking, simple ilus- 
tration of the difference between society and government, the institu- 
tions of society and those of government, the self-administration of so- 
ciety and the administration of government? Who does not see the 
immense value of this scheme of social labor, encouragement, and in- 
fluence among many others, in one important particular? It is doing 
for the people, and enabling the people to do fo^ themselves, what 
government never can do for them. It is scattering religious, moral, 
Hterary, humane influence every where. It is rendering the people 
more intelligent, thoughtful, and discreet. It is educating them more 
and more for self-government and the government of others, thro' the 
representativ principle which pervades the whole scheme. It is thus 
accomplishing the great object of a Christian republican system, the 
voluntary obedience of the people to their own government and 
rulers; thus dispensing, more and more, with power in the hands of 
rulers, and with expense in the administration of governmenment. 
Who does not, then, behold, in this new-created social system, a 
broader, deeper, more solid foundation for government, than any 



252 MR. GBIMKE's ORATIOrf. 

state of society ever before possessd? Who will not, then, acknow^ 
lege it as one of the most remarkable and benevolent contrivances, in 
the moral providence of God, to bind together our wide spread com- 
munity, and to preserv, amid all their perils, our popular institutions) 
Who does not see in it a new, a heavenly pledge, that our country is 
destin'd to triumphs in the world of intelect, morals, and benevo- 
lence, far exceeding in power, grandeur, and usefulness, the achiev- 
mentsofall the legislators and conquerors, both of the ancient and 
modern world? How undeniable is it, then, that, to strengthen and 
improv these social influences, must be a prominent duty of American 
Eloquence! And where is its paralel in antiquityl We seek for it in 
vain. These glorious constellations of our moral social system are set 
in the clear sky of Christianity: and like the brilliant cross of the 
southern hemisphere, or the dazzhng phenomena of the northern 
lights, were never seen by the heathen world. 

We come now, in its broad sense, to the political department of the 
dutys assignd to American Eloquence. I speak not so much of the 
purely political, due to the government, as of the popular, due to the peo- 
ple. These bear the same relation to those which the institutions of 
society bear to those of government, which social and moral dutys 
bear to legal obligations. What a fountain of pure, I may say of holy, 
eloquence is opend to the American orator, in the cultivation of the 
spirit of peace, as contrasted with the spirit of war! His duty is to 
recomend the former and discountenance the latter, with inexorable 
fidelity to the cause of God and his country. He must promote the 
strict observance of justice towards all nations, and among ourselvs: 
and that strength of principle which sacrifices interest to duty; which 
acknowledges principle as the only standard of expediency, and truth 
and right as the highest, truest interest of nations and individuals. 
To him we look, and shall we look in vainf to chasten, exalt, and 
enlighten public sentiment; to enoble and purify the model of public 
character; to cultivate a higher sense of duty on the part of the people 
in the exercise of their popular rights; to establish, as far as in him 
lies, the obligations of personal independence, of disinterestedness, 
of self-sacrifice in public men. Be it his duty to guard, with sleepless 
jealousy, the freedom of the press; but to rebuke and restrain its licen- 
tiousness, as degrading to national character, a reproach to popular 
government, and an implacable enemy to the people. Let him lov' 
to cultivate that spirit of calm, regulated, temperate freedom, which 
must become more and more the characteristic of American institutions. 
Let him banish far from our shores that licentious, wild, and tumul- 
tuous spirit which heavd, and shatterd, and sunk the Grecian states, 
amid the tempestuous waves of liberty. Let him vindicate, with in- 



MR. grimke's oration. 253 

flexible fidelity, freedom of conscience, against the usurpations both 
of church and state; against the intolerance of an establishd religion, 
and the test oaths of party power. Be it equaly his duty to strength- 
en and enlarge the foundations already laid for universal education, 
and to watch evry favorable opportunity to recomend it with the pow- 
er of argument and the fascinations of eloquence. 

What an ilustrious afecting duty was assignd to Spanish chivalry 
when Christian knights, from the camp of the besiegers, came to vin- 
dicate in arms, the honor and inocence of the Queen of G-ranada. 
And what an office, not less glorious and touching, is allotted to Amer- 
ican Eloquence! when the genius of Christianity, and the spirit of 
all our institutions call forth the orator as the admirer, guardian, cham- 
pion of woman. Let him reverence and honor her with a truth and 
devotion wiser and purer than that which distinguishd the age of 
knight-errantry. Let him enable her, by a more enlightend educa- 
tion, both of the mind and heart, to. keep up with the progress of so- 
ciety in knowledge and virtue. Let him labor zealously and steadily 
for the promotion of her usefulness, in the domestic and social circle; 
to prepare her by these means for the only influence which she is fit- 
ted by nature, and calld by duty, to exert on society, the purifying, 
deep, enlarged influence of the matron and virgin. Lastly, let him 
vindicate her from the unjust and ungenerous reflections that hav 
been cast upon the powers of her understanding and the qualities of 
her character. Be this the duty of American Eloquence; and assured- 
ly, never orator of the ancient or modern world had a theme so full 
of dignity, pathos, and beauty. It seems almost needless to com- 
pare these various classes of duty in the orator of our country with 
those of the orator of antiquity. There we shall find scarcely a para- 
lel; or if it be discoverd, we shall not fail to recognize an imperfect 
counterpart of those which I hav calld purely popular, as distinguish- 
ed from political dutys. 

One theme of duty still remains, and I hav plac'd it alone: because 
of its peculiar dignity, sacredness, and importance. Need I tell you 
that I speak of the union of the states'? Let the American orator dis- 
charge all other dutys but this, if indeed it be not impossible, with 
the energy and eloquence of John Rutledge, and the disinterested 
fidehty of Robert Morris, yet shall he be counted a traitor, if he at- 
tempt todissolv the union. His name, ilustrious as it may hav been, 
shall then be gibbeted on evry hill-top throughout the land, a monu- 
ment of his crime and punishment, and of the shame and grief of his 
country. If indeed he believ, and doubtless there may be such, that 
wisdom demands the dissolution of the union, that the south should 
be severd from the north, the west be independent of the east, let 

33 



254 MR. geimke's oration. 

him cherish the sentiment, for his own sake, in the solitude of hiss 
breast, or breathe it only in the confidence of friendship. Let him 
rest assur'd, that as his country tolerates the monarchist and the aris- 
tocrat of the old world she tolerates him; but should he plot the dis- 
memberment of the union, the same trial, judgment, and execution 
await him as would await them, should they attempt to establish the 
aristocracy of Venice, or the monarchy of Austria, on the ruins of our 
confederacy. To him as to them she leavs freedom of speech; and 
the very licentiousness of the press: and permits them to write, even 
in the spirit of scorn, and hatred, and unfairness. She trembles not 
at such effort, reckless and hostil as they may be. She smiles at their 
impotence; while she mourns over their infatuation. But let them 
lift the hand of parricide, in the insolence of pride, or the madness of 
power, to strike their country, and her countenance, in all the sever- 
ity and terrors of a parent's wrath shall smite them with amazement 
and horror. Let them strike, and the voices of millions of freemen 
from the city and hamlet, from the college and the farm-house, from 
the cabins amid the western wilds, and our ships scatterd around the 
world, shall utter the stern irrevocable judgment, self-banishment for 
life, or ignominious death. 

Be it then among the noblest offices of American Eloquence to cul- 
tivate, in the people of evry state, a deep and fervent attachment to the 
union. The union is to us the marriage-bond of states; indissoluble 
in life, to be dissolvd, we trust, only on that day when nations shall 
die in a moment, never to rise again. Let the American orator dis- 
countenance then all the arts of intrigue and corruption, which not 
only polute the people and dishonor republican institutions, but pre- 
pare the way for the ruin of both — how secretly, how surely, let his- 
tory declare. Let him banish from his thoughts, and his lips, the hy- 
pocracy of the demagogue, equaly deceitful and degraded, 

"With smooth dissimulation, skill'd to grace 
A devil's purpose, with an angel's face." 

1 Cowper, 18, Table Talk. 

Let that demagogue and those arts, his instruments of power, be re- 
garded as pretended friends, but secret and dangerous enemysof the 
people. Let it never be forgotten, that to him and to them we owe 
all the licentiousness and violence, all the unprincipled and unfeeling 
persecution of party spirit. Let the American orator labor then, with 
all the intensity of filial lov', to convince his countrymen that the 
danger to liberty in this is to be traced to those sources. Let the Eu- 
ropean tremble for his institutions, in the presence of mihtary power 
and for the warrior's ambition. Let the American dread, as the arch- 
enemy of republican institutions, the shock of exasperated partys, 



MR. grimke's oration. 255 

and the implacable revenge of demagogues. The disciplin of stan- 
ding armys, is the terror of freedom in Europe; but the tactics of par- 
tys, the standing armys of America, are still more formidable to liber- 
ty with us. 

Let the American orator frown then on that ambition, which pur- 
suing its own aggrandizment and gratification, perils the harmony 
and integrity of the union, and counts the grief, anxiety, and expos- 
tulations of millions, as the small dust of the balance. Let him re- 
member that ambition, like the Amruta cup of Indian fable, gives to 
the virtuous an immortality of glory and happiness, but to the corrupt 
an immortality of ruin, shame and misery. Let not the American or- 
ator, in the great questions on which he rs to speak or write, appeal 
to the mean and groveling qualities of human nature. Let him lov' 
the people, and respect himself too much to dishonor them, and de- 
grade himself by an appeal to selfishness and prejudice, to jealousy, 
fear and contempt. The greater the interests, and the more sacred 
the rights which may be at stake, the more resolutely should he appeal 
to the generous feelings, the noble sentiments; the calm considerate 
wisdom, which become a free, educated, peaceful Christian people. 
Even if he battel against criminal ambition and base intrigue, let his 
weapons be a logic, manly, intrepid, honorable; and an eloquence, 
magnanimous, disinterested, and spotless. 

What a contrast between his dutys and those of Athenian eloquence, 
where the prince of orators was but the prince of demagogues! How 
could it be otherwise with a religion that commanded no virtue, and 
prohibited no vice? with deitys, the model of every crime and folly, 
which deform and pollute even man'? with a social system, in which 
refinement, benevolence, forbearance, found no place? How could 
it be otherwise, with a political system in which war was the chief 
element of power and honor in the individual, and of strength, secu- 
rity, and glory in the state; while the ambition or resentment of rulers 
found a cheerful response in the lov' of conquest, plunder or revenge 
on the part of the people? How could it be otherwise, with such do- 
mestic relations between the republics as made it the duty of the an- 
cient orator to aggrandize his own at the expense of all the rest, to set 
state against state, to foment jealousys and .bickerings among them, to 
deceiv and weaken the strong, to oppress and seize the feeble? How 
could it be otherwise, when such were the domestic and foreign rela- 
tions, viewd as a whole, that the duty of the ancient orator was to 
cultivate the union of the states, not as a matter of deep and lasting 
importance at home, not as the very life of peace and harmony there, 
but only as an expedient against foreign invasion, while partial and 
hostil combinations, headed by Athens, or Thebes, or Sparta, were the 
current events of their domestic policy? 



256 MR. gbimke's oration. 

ComparM to such dutys and such scenes, who can turn to the obli- 
gations and field of American eloquence, without a thrill of spirit- 
stirring adrairation and gratitude? His office in our union, how full 
of benignity and peace, of justice, majesty, and truthi Where ex- 
cept in the christian pulpit, shall we find its paralel? And why do 
we find it there? but that the Christian ministry are, like him, the ad- 
vocates of purity, forbearance, and lov'. How delightful, how hon- 
orable the task, to calm the angry passions, to dissipate error, to re- 
concile prejudice, to banish jealousy, and silence the voke of selfish- 
ness! But American Eloquence must likewise cultivate afixd, unal- 
terable devotion to the union, a frank, generous, ardent attachment 
of section to section, of state to state: and in the citizen liberal senti- 
ments towards his rulers, and cordial lov' for his countrymen. Nor 
is this all. Let the American orator comprehend, and liv' up to the 
grand conception, that the union is the property of the world, no less 
than of ourselvsj that it is a part of the divine scheme for the moral 
government of the earth, as the solar system is a part of the mechan- 
ism of the heavens; that it is destind, . whilst travehng from the Atlan- 
tic to the Pacific, like the ascending sun, to shed its glorious influence 
backward on the states of Europe, and forward on the empires of Asia. 
Let him comprehend its sublime relations to time and eternity; to God 
and man; to the mosts precious hopes, the most solemn obligations, 
and the highest happiness af human kind. And what an eloquence 
must that be whose source of power and wisdom are God himsslf; 
the objects of whose influence are all the nations of the earth; whose 
sphere of duty is co-extensiv with all that is sublime in rehgion, beau- 
tiful in morals, commanding in intelect, and touching in humanity. 
How comprehensiv, and therefore how wise and benevolent, must 
then be the genius of American Eloquence, compar'd to the narrow- 
minded, narrow-hearted, and therefore selfish, eloquence of Greece 
and Rome. How striking is the contrast' between the universal so- 
cial spirit of the former, and the individual, exclusiv character of the 
latter. The boundary of this is the horizon of a plain; the circle of 
that, the horizon of a mountain summit. Be it then the duty of Amer- 
ican Eloquence to speak, to write, to act, in the cause of Christianity, 
patriotism, and literature; in the cause of justice, humanity, virtue 
and truth; in the cause of the people, of the union, of the whole hu- 
man race, and of the unborn of every clime and age. Then shall 
American Eloquence, the personification of Truth, Beauty, and Love, 

". walk the earth, that she may hear her name 



Still hymn'd and honored by the grateful voice 
Of human kind, and in her fame rejoice." 

Curse of Kchama^ vol. 2, p. 35, 



MR. grimke's ORA-TION. 257 

Gentlemen of the Erodelphian Society, 

A common language, a common country, the same national re- 
cords, ilustrious ancestry, and glorious prospects, forbid me to feel 
that I am a stranger among you. It is indeed but to-day that for the 
first time you saw the countenance, and heard the voice of him whom 
you had honored with the title of an adopted brother. In a few days 
I depart from among you, to be seen no more by the mortal eys that 
now behold me, to be heard no more, forever, by the mortal ears that 
now listen to my words. But what are the eye, the lips, the voice, 
but the external manifestations, the language of invisible, immortal 
spirits; sojourners, for a few years, in frail mansions of flesh; but des- 
tind to be inhabitants, thro' endless ages, of glorious and incorruptible 
forms] We part, never to meet again in the majestic and beautiful 
world which the providence of God has assigned to our nation. We 
part — but shall we never meet again, in the more majestic and beauti- 
ful world of angels and the just made perfect? We part, but shall we 
not meet, in the city of the living God, beneath the tree of life, beside 
the pure river of the water of lifel We part not, like the orator of 
antiquity, with the promis to meet his audience again, in the fields of 
a fabuloua Elysium, amid verdant lawns, melodious groves, and beau- 
tiful streams; but we part to meet again. I trust, as glorify'd spirits, in 
celestial mansions. 

This trust, this hope, are the most glorious attributes of American 
Eloquence. Be this your trust, this your hope, my young friends, and 
from among you shall yet issue forth more than one, equaly conspic- 
uous for piety and benevolence, for wisdom, learning and eloquence. 
Be assur'd if the American orator rightly comprehend the genius of 
Christianity, the spirit of our institutions, and the character of the age 
in which he livs, and if he desire to be read with admiration, and re- 
memberd with gratitude by posterity, he must be deeply imbu'd with 
the benign, masculin, thoughtful spirit of religion. Let me then com- 
mend to you, as more worthy of intens devotion than all the classics 
of Greece and Rome, the Scriptures, the most venerable, precious, 
and magnificent of classics. Let me commend them to you, as richer 
in the materials and dutys of American Eloquence than all the trea- 
sures that Greece and Rome can lay at your feet. Let me commend 
to your profound study, the institutions of your country; and the no- 
ble ilustrations of them, to be found in the writings of our historians 
and statesmen, judges^ orators, and scholars. Let me commend to 
your reverence, gratitude, and imitation, the character of Washing- 
ton, the noblest personification of patriot duty, dignity, and useful- 
ness, that men hav ever seen. Let me commend to you, lastly, to en- 
ter with a deep seriousness, yet with a glowing enthusiasm, into the 



258 MR. grimke's oration. 

spirit of the age in which you liv. It is grave, peaceful, benevolent, 
virtuous. It is the spirit of reason, justice, wisdom. Remember that 
your country is now, by the permission and in the order of provi- 
dence, the polar star among the constelations of civiliz'd states. Re- 
member that each American is a beam of glory, or a dim ray of that 
star. To each is entrusted then a portion of his country's fame; as to 
each soldier in the army of Napoleon was given his portion of all that 
armor whose dazzling light streamed in radiant lines over the Alps, 
and flooded the plains of Italy, as with a meteor-shower from heaven. 
To you, then, my friends of the Erodelphian Society, is assign'd a 
noble office, as students of American Eloquence, as guardians of 
American glory. May it be my lot, tho' we shall meet no more, to 
hear of the faithfulness, zeal, and ability, with which you shall honor 
and serv your country! Tho' I shall not listen to the voice, nor look 
on the face, of the Erodelphian orator, in the West, may it be my 
privilege, in my distant home in the South, to read, from your pens, 
many a noble proof, how grand and beautiful are the materials and 
the dutys of American Eloquence. Then shall this holy place, this 
audience of the unknown, this society of strangers, and yet of com- 
patriot brothers, arise to my view, and all the hving scene around me 
shall be restor'd on the clear mirror of memory. Then shall I rejoice 
I trust with a chaste and blameless emotion, at the thought that per- 
adventure 1 had not pleaded (n vain the cause of Christian, American 
Eloquence. Then shall I acknowlege my debt of gratitude to you; 
for I shall feel that you had listend to me, and that I had not livd in 
vain. 



ADDRESS 



DELIVERED BEFORE 



THE SOCIETY OF THE ALUMNI 



OF 



MIAMI UNIVERSITY, 



AT THEIR ANNIVERSARY, SEPTEMBER 22, 1834, 



BY WM. M. COBRY, A. M. 



ADDRESS. 



Fellow Graduates, 

At the period when we last departed for our several homes, we 
anticipated a literary festival less grave than would be decorous under 
the unhappy circumstances which have lately surrounded the spot 
where we are assembled.* When we made arrangements for the ob- 
servance of this anniversary, we were oppressed by no dread of severe 
calamity visiting ourselves, or the hospitable community which con- 
tributed so much to the pleasure of that occasion. Then, familiar 
faces separated without poignant regret, for re-union now, in the 
possession of healthj and grown wiser, and, of course, better, by the 
lessons of experience. A thought might have been suggested, that 
twelve months dispensation of Providence would sever, as it has sev- 
ered, some ties very dear to us on earth; but Hope's protecting ^gis 
defended our bosoms from many penetrating fears, and we went our 
ways rejoicing in the consciousness that our faculties had been inno- 
cently improved, and our hearts new-opened and refreshed by access 
to the shrine of wisdom and philosophy. 

But we did not remember the plenitude of affliction, or the unspar- 
ing rigor of that smiting hand which obeys no monitor but the Inscru- 
tible and Omnipotent. We were happy in the forgetfulness. Alas! 
gentlemen, this seat of learning is not now re-visited with similar sen- 
sations. We return to it but a moment after .the scythe-armed angel 
of destruction has carved the bloody letters of his commission upon 
the posts of almost every door. Since our former pilgrimage to these 
academic ahades, he has violated nature's awful order in their midst, 
by sweeping human life as though it were the sand of the shore, or 
one of the countless myriads of ephemeral existence. The noble forms 
of men which mature in delay and hope, so long and anxious, have 
fallen beneath his stroke like harvest flowers; they have fled before 

* The village of Oxford had buta fewdays emerged from an appalling attack of Chol- 
era, which proved unusually fatal, and had struck such terror into persons at a dis- 
tance, as well as the inhabitants, that it was almost determined to dismiss the students 
of the University, and suspend the commencement exercises. 

34 



262 MR. corry's address. 

his face like the shadows which are born of clouds. This devoted 
Village, where for many summers all has been peace and gladness, 
was but yesterday the path of the hurricane; and although many stocks 
still stand in the field— how many that were loaded with the fullest 
honors, and how many that were unripe, but not unlovely, lie strip- 
ped and prostrate! How much of the strength of the sturdy has been 
broken! How many lilies of the valley repose forever beneath the 
valley's clod! 

Such unwonted desolation has not only melted philanthropy into 
tears — but its pathos has penetrated the stern, and the stranger. It 
appeals to us, gentlemen, in a peculiar manner. Although we may 
boast all the buoyancy of youth; and although we had encompassed 
this scene with associations out of keeping with grief; yet, in the 
midst of mourners, some of whom we know, we must take from all 
around us, if we disregard all within us, the hues of soberness. Not 
to be Tchastened on this remarkable day, under all the circumstances, 
would draw upon us that worst enemy to the thoughtful man, self- 
reproach. But I know our aspect and language evince the sensibility 
of our hearts for that dreadful shock from which those who were our 
neighbors, at a most interesting period, have but partially recovered. 
We will be admonished to serious and sympathising reflection, taking 
care to ernploy this opportunity in the education of our sentiments, as 
well as in the improvement of our intellectual powers. 

This anniversary celebration has occurred so seldom, that it may be 
regarded with feelings of high excitement. The oldest vows to the 
cause of our infant society — a cause embracing themes and considera- 
tions of the deepest interest — have seen few revolutions of the sun; 
and still it has the early vigor of the fabled god, and has left its cradle 
to tread the highway of a useful existence. Its members having a 
natural affinity for each other, are united by that bond of ingenuous 
and noble ambition; whose guardian folds, untested by adverse for- 
tune, and without the tenacity of age, will yet resist every means of 
severance, except the forbidden sword. Of one mind now, and to- 
tally unthreatened by discord, they rest the kindling eye of confidence 
on the future, fearless of assaults upon a harmony and firmness which 
can only increase with the number of those who mingle with them 
hereafter in fellowship. 

This sanguine inference is drawn as well from the plan of the as- 
sociation, as from a knowledge of the fidelity to pledges and attach- 
ment to friends, which have been ascribed to its founders and their 
colleagues, as will be seen upon the most imperfect scrutiny of its or- 
ganization. One of the leading objects is to establish a never failing 
interest in the common welfare, among all who receive the degrees of 



MR. corry's address. 363 

this Institution, however widely scattered, grateful to them in pros- 
perous seasons, and furnishing the succour of fraternal offices to those 
whom adversity may overtake. 

Another object is to enlarge the reputation of Miami University by 
concentrating, annually, the talent, and convening the persons, of 
that circle of Alumni who look to these halls as the place of their col- 
legiate instruction, thereby inspiring the rivalry of improvement in 
literary merit, among ardent, different, and powerful minds. 

It is likewise proposed to advance, by exchanges of opinion, and a 
stimulation of enterprize, the incomparable interests of letters, and to 
qualify ourselves the bettter for the responsible duties of citizen- 
ship. 

I congratulate you, gentlemen, upon the foundation of our society, 
I see in it seminal principles of success and lasting operation; and am 
satisfied that it will distribute improvement and happiness to others, 
after we shall have been dismissed from the reach of temporal bene- 
fits. As men standing, not only on the threshold of such a monument, 
but almost on the threshold of useful life, and in full view of our field 
of action, before committing yourselves to destiny, let me entreat you 
to cast your eyes anxiously from this point forward on every side 
and around you, while! say a few words on the prospect before us, 
and upon the means of advancement in our schemes of occupa- 
tion. 

It may not be inappropriate to direct your attention, in the outset, 
to that heritage of freedom most comprehensive, by speaking as con- 
solitary to the heart as it is auspicious to fame, enjoyed by the high 
and low together, throughout the borders of this extended Republic. 
The censorship of kingly or conventional absolutism, in less favored 
countries, has invaded every sanctuary of talent, and polluted all the 
sources of distinction. The field of god-like action, in public office, is 
harshly barred to all but the privileged holders of title, or to those 
fierce spirits who can, in their flight upward, compass earth and 
cleave heaven, when most opposed. That great stream, fed by the 
mighty tributaries of professional mind, is filled with chevaux de/rize, 
against which much gifted genius is wantonly baffled and submerged. 
Absurd and iniquitous regulations have also obtained in regard to the 
relations between individuals, as well as those immediately affecting 
the public more at large. Intolerant society has denied herself else- 
where to the deserving, and conspicuously favored the insignificant. 
But it so happens that we have amongst us every facility for the en- 
couragement of aspirants to the honors of general ambition. Geo- 
graphically, we are aloof from the vices of older and much infected 
countries, yet acceptable to their speculations and discoveries. Po- 



264 MH. corry's address. 

litically, we are all free and all equal. Socially, our claims being fairly 
heard are equitably graduated; and the accident of birth or fortune is 
not paramount. Virtuous talent is the potent of universal superiority, 
and "all the blood of all the Howards" would not purchase one vic- 
tor's crown. All adverse influence thus removed, a man of merit has 
but lo aspire lo a career blending honor and eminence,, and the exe- 
cution of his wishes depends almost entirely on a vigorous application 
of his resources. For this whole posture of things, when we regard 
it intrinsically, or by comparison, there should be no limit to the fer- 
vor of our thanks. With a government and a people whose genius is 
so propitious to every rational effort, the proud wear lions' hearts, and 
the powerful put forth their utmost strength, in all the palhs of glory. 
By their united protection and encouragement, even youth is not 
without its tender laurels. As the immense oak stretches its equal 
arms over all its descendants, already do we behold the guardian sha- 
dow of our glorious Union sheltering thousands of rising candidates 
for reputation. In every walk of life, individual independence and 
social emulation are seen extending their pervading, and important, 
and familiar influence for good. Men look less than heretofore and 
elsewhere to effeminate pastimes, and more to the accumulation of 
knowledge and respectability, whose value is appreciated by the 
wholesome habits of the country, and nurtured by a correspondent 
legislation. 

The world, too, at large, seems to be awakening from a deep sleep, 
which has entranced it for ages. 

Looking beyond the limits of our own territory and institutions, 
however, there is much to encourage the man who keeps pace with 
human improvement. The mind is waking from what I hope is the 
last of the deep sleeps and iron bondage which have imprisoned its 
faculties for centuries. Practical usefulness and actual power are 
becoming every day more the objects of effort; and the age of the 
visionary following the age of chivalry, is going by over the civilized 
world. It is signified by a multitude of those witnesses which mark 
mortal changes, that we are to be blessed throughout the world with 
an era when the intellect shall wield the strength which Ajax had, in 
the midst of that light which Ajax was denied. All hail! the day 
when harmless, unprofitable men, who muse apart, shall meet with 
none of the encouragement from applause or veneration which they 
once reaped abundantly. When all the educated shall advance upon 
the Hne of usefulness, with competition as free as the veiwless wind, 
and unlimited their recompense of reward. When neither the yoke 
of bigotry, nor the blight of censorship, shall paralyze the brain. 
When brethren shall emulate each other; the fountains of the social 



265 

deep be broken up, and pour from its prolific bosom legions of mental 
champions abroad into the world. We a\-e permitted, and, indeed, 
ied to believe, that, in every clime, activity, combined with genius, 
will soon become the condition of greatness. Intellectual empire 
does not now acknowledge such subjects as the cloistered monks and 
closeted scholars of earlier times, miserable exiles from that infinite 
fund of delight great Nature has bound up in the action of all our fac- 
ulties: the former sustained under the delusion that mortification of 
himself, the uninterrupted contemplation of heaven, and solitary de- 
votion, lead to those eternal mansions not made with hands; the lat- 
ter lured into his retreat by motives less easily vindicated. Yes, 
gentlemen, the day has been when the graduate of our University, 
retreated from those whirlwinds which occasionally sweep across soci- 
ety, to hide his head like the biped of the desert. The deep bosom 
and still air of scholastic retirement formed an oblivious abode for 
many such victims, once disappointed and forever lost. No sooner 
did the student feel the keen scorn of inferiors, who had mixed with 
men when he was confined to books, and who met him only to taunt 
his inexperience, than in a moment of disgust he was hurried to an 
abandonment of legitimate pursuits, and wasted the remnant of his 
dejected days. To appreciate the priceless redemption from such a 
living burial is only ro devote a moment to the sacrifice it involves. 
A cultivated mind is generally allied to a refined sensibility; and how 
painful must have been an existence cut off from the commerce of 
our fellow men, denied their smiles, and entitled to their condemna- 
tion. The pursuit of science, by such a recluse, must be valueless 
and unsatisfying. Sympathy in his vicissitudes, which comes to all, 
visits him not. There is none cast down by his reverses, nor trans- 
ported by his success; and, in the absence of that consolation, whose 
ungirded loins are capable of toil? It is not enough that the student 
should be a rigid task-master, assisting nature by indefatigable indus- 
try alone, he must have some extraneous influence to nerve him for 
labor. Not inward energy nor duty's law, can fully develope the 
human mind. They should be assisted by the vivifying breath of 
censure or approbation. An husbandman scatters the seed abroad, 
but relies upon something else than the earth's fertility and the sweat 
of his brow, for an appropriate return: the external agency of the air, 
rain, and sun, are indispensable to his hopes of harvest. Deaden the 
scholar's vitality, by the chill of neglect and solitude, and even a 
Sampson mind would be shorn of its strength. Undaunted diligence 
may propel him to acquirement; but seclusion will wither up, and 
dreams emasculate, all his energies, even should he escape a corroding, 
melancholy despair. Indeed, so far from being an ascetic, his pulses 



266 MR. corry's address. 

may bound under the influence of beatific visions, promising him ma' 
turity of talents, and prowess over the meaner votaries who give not 
their whole souls to the worship of ambition's God. Forgetting that 
every generation must learn what was previously discovered, losing 
sight of the helplessness of infancy, and the imbecility of age, he may 
aspire to the unKmited empire of intellect over the haunts and hearts 
of men, to the period when it shall have mastered all the secrets of 
nature, and dispelled the benighting darkness of the world. Such 
boundless victories are often won in reverie, within the lonely cham- 
ber of the student, sustained only by the sages of history and the soar- 
ing wings of the imagination; but they are as barren and impalpable 
as the hallucinations of the maniac. The author of these mock con- 
quests may suflfer martyrdom in their ideal achievement, and yet his 
head will be heaped with the ashes of contempt. Like the hermit, 
he has dared to forget his obligations to society, and must consequent- 
ly suffer a just, inevitable, and ignoble fate. Fortunately, gentlemen, 
we have no specimens of either of the species referred to in this por- 
tion of the globe: there is more real philosophy about both our devo- 
tees of learning and religion. And that philosophy also prevents our 
touching the opposite extreme of giving up to the world more of our 
attention than it deserves — a habit equally fatal to the great ends of 
study and fruitful meditation. Our domestic integrity, and the homely 
virtues of which it is the parent, will long protect us against the 
supremacy of the ultra fashion, which loves the throng, and seeks the 
distractions of the world, as a relief from the necessity of reflection. 
As a people, we shun the vanity of parade, and our progress in re- 
finement has not made us artificial, for we more seek substantial hap- 
piness than pageantry. Not that we ostracise the elegancies of Hfe, 
but that we place them in subordination to paramount commands, in 
the division of our time, reserving long seasons of improvement to 
ourselves. 

It were .impossible for me, standing where I now do, not to felici- 
tate you upon a survey of the peculiar nobleness and grandeur of our 
own district of country, for the creation and endowment of ability, in 
its possessors. We not only live in an illustrious era of the world, 
and under liberal instituions, fostering all our relations to life, and 
affording natural gifts and merit, generally the boon of entire freedom 
from restraint, but promising them the widest and most exciting 
theatre of exertion, and all its legitimate rewards. A land where 
Nature would seem to have founded her stateliest pavilion of domin- 
ion — where she has reared the tallest forests, painted her lovehest 
landscapes, and pours her boldest tributaries to the ocean. Such a land 



26T 

inust have been originally designed to produce citizens worthy of a 
magnificent birth-place — a race of men upon whom the statesman 
and friend of human hopes reposed the vastest superstructure of con- 
fidence and prophecy, with every thing intrinsic to illuminate its 
place upon the map of the whole Union, its attitude to the several 
parts, and the world, as well as its recent history, present reasons for 
even higher predictions. Masses of the adventurous of all nations 
are concentrating towards that region of which Ohio is the focus. 
Copious streams of men, feeling all the impulses of interest, the unfal- 
tering energy of ambition, and the keen rowel of necessity, fill this 
and the neighboring states, carrying in their bosoms the emigrant's 
ardor and self-reliance, and their influx is. fructifying the social, as 
the floods of our boundary do the natural, surface of every shore. It 
brings with it much foreign riches from other climes, and makes our 
territory their receptacle. Therefore it is that Ohio must soon be- 
come, not only well developed, but an emigrating state, scattering 
abroad all the resources, of opulence which belong to numbers, to en- 
ergy, and invention, until fertility and excellence shall overflow every 
one of those stupendous channels of intercourse so profusely spread 
already over the bosom of the Great West. 

The Mississippi Valley is not merely a panorama of what men's 
hands have made, but a stage on which the immortal mind is elabora- 
ting signal and undying works to those near and those remote, who 
have been roused from the apatliy of ignorance, and seek an acquaint- 
ance with elevated truth. Our soil, our rivers, manufactures, agri- 
culture, and trade, from the well rewarded attention of those well 
versed in their history, and from the scrutiny of unpractised eyes, are 
realizing their utmost development. But also — and it is more a sub- 
ject of rejoicing — the grand reservoir of intellect is diffusing precious 
knowledge far and wide as the waters cover the sea. Uninspired 
reason bids me tell you that the destinies of this flourishing common- 
wealth will not disappoint the utmost expectation, if those to whom 
it is an inheritance or an abiding place, fail not utterly in the parts 
they ought to enact for the fulfilment of the prediction. Pardon me, 
gentlemen, for that natural and not dishonoring reservation, and ac- 
company me a few moments in speaking of some of the provisions to 
be made by every Alumnus of Miami University, as one of the most 
favored class of the advancing generation. 

Even your limited contact with the scenes and characters of busi- 
ness life have taught you the necessity of full preparation for those 
conspicuous stations which the public look upon you to occupy. 
Auxiliary to these, you have, perhaps, learned professions, but wheth- 
er they will be to you avenues of preferment depends upon your per- 



268 MR. CORRY^S ADDRESS. 

severance, the characters you form for ability, and the use you make 
of the untried future. I have said much, gentlemen, in the opening 
of the subject, to inspire you with resolution and courage: permit me 
also to remark, although, as I shall demonstrate, not for the mere pur- 
pose of giving discouraging advice, nor to predispose your hearts to 
the unmanliness of fear, that, with all advantages, the outset of every 
self-dependent person into the world, is a trying season to his philos- 
ophy, A crisis at which the sanguine sink in spirit, and whose per- 
ils daunt the bold. It is a plunge from academic shade and tranquili- 
ty into the heat of battle, where the head is confused with hissing 
noises, and the unharnessed joints exposed to merciless weapons. 
It were labor lost for you to plead the inoffensiveness of your cause, 
the fairness of your objects, or your long term of sacrificing applica- 
tion. In vain, expect by humility of conduct and an exercise of con- 
sideration, for others to escape reproach. Even in the dayhght of 
charity pervading this country, how many histories of young men of 
promise, equally pathetic and disastrous, meet our eyes'. How often 
do the envious and stupid, panoplied in prejudice and fraught with 
venom, crush their spirits and destroy their reputations! Too fre- 
quently the lofty contempt of his adversaries, felt by the genius, in- 
duces him to neglect vindication from abuse, and to leave it to time, 
chance, and the hands of others. He is apt to notice, in silent digni- 
ty within himself, as well as from disdain of the adversary, as, because 
to act on the defensive is to act at disadvantage. He is a conspicu- 
ous as well as vulnerable object, his callous assailants, only mighty in 
their malice, are seldom unscreened by their obscurity. Too magnani- 
mous to strike, too proud to compromise, the victim sinks never to 
rise, under a shower of poisoned arrows. Admonished by spectacles 
Jike these, but not depressed, I beg you, gentlemen, in your own per- 
sons not to verify the solemn picture. Prepare yourselves for wounds 
and suffering, which, if you do, as you may escape, you will be prof- 
ited by the pains taken, and the self-denial practised, to encounter 
them. 1 by no means would dishearten any one just entering the 
busy arena, by exhibiting too much of the unclad reality, much less 
would I be guilty, for the same purpose, of tales of fictitious misery; 
but considering you men who have seen some service, I would 
strengthen your arms, and confirm your fortitude, tear away idle 
visions, and give lessons of firmness, by reminding you early of your 
openness to dangers, the weary distance of the journey, the dense and 
repulsive atmosphere in which it commences, and the Cossack host 
of your enemies. Through this novitiate, aspirants for renown, or 
the honest fame of being useful, pass every where, and favored as you 



269 

are, some of you will escape much of its severity, others will feel its 
extremes. If any who hears me is ready to despair, let me address 
to him the assurance of finally surviving his trials, if he will "to his 
t)wn self be true," and false to no other man. It is human to suffer 
as well as err, and many times man pays the penalty without the guilt. 
Dihgence and virtue are required in temporal conflicts, as well as to 
endure the tribulations of the saint; but such a combination is at least 
invincible upon earth, if it does not altogether fit us for another exist* 
ence. No obstacle can oppose, no force ultimately resist, the united 
and unceasing struggles of such confederates. They have their like, 
and may be illustrated by natural objects. The Shenandaah and the 
Potomac, impeded for hundreds of miles on their courses to the sea, 
by an adamantine chain of mountains, only gather volume and impe* 
tusfrom their captivity, to liberate themselves at last in majestic inde- 
pendence, and consecrate the spot of their triumph with the sublimest 
monuments. 

Recollect, gentlemen, after you have fairly embarked, that success 
in life is variously realized. Sometimes it is the offspring of good 
fortune, of patronage, of accident, and sometimes it is the child of 
audacity; but the sources most prolific of it are our own inborn powers, 
soberly and rightly directed, under the auspices of approving Heav- 
en. Let your minds, then, resolve to advance upon every barrier to 
their march, with a vigor like that with which an eagle dashes against 
the front of the storm; and put all your ardor into the attainment of a 
single conquest. It is placing folly on the seat of judgment to aspire 
after the fame of an universal genius. But, gentlemen, there is no 
disappointing fallacy in the hope that perseverance in one pursuit 
will be crowned with vivid and perpetual honors. Qualified by ac- 
quirement and by character for one leading object, you will be in that 
enviable requisition enabling you to take honest tribute from those 
exhaustless arteries of the social system, men's interests and their 
passions, while dissipation of your strength in many ways will make 
you imbecile and contemptible. Be not disheartened, my friends, at 
the indifference and hesitation of the world to bestow its patronage 
upon your pretensions. Apathetic in every thing demanding an ex- 
ertion of liberality, it is peculiarly slow to recognize that merit which 
will affect its favorites, and revolutionize its fixed opinions. But so 
sure as it may be in the power of the slightest cause to postpone the 
recognition, it yet remains as sure that no power not divine can per- 
manently arrest tlie course of justice, where real unshrinking worth 
is concerned. "Truth is omnipotent, and public equity is certain," 
if we have but the philosophic patience to wait for their award. Days, 

35 



270 

and months, and years, says all eminent biography, may pass over the 
unhonored head of the finally fortunate, and yet nothing appear in the 
horizon but clouds — brambles cover the earth instead of bays — stilly 
in an hour when he thinks not of it, he shall be greeted by the sun, 
and be crowned with the evergreen. The man who is faithful to 
duty, and stern in its discharge, though all report is beyond the reach 
of malice, and fortified against accident, as far as the first can be ex- 
erted by the base, or the other overtake the unfortunate. I revert to 
these considerations, I dwell on them, because I know the eagerness 
of the young to press forward in their career of ambitious usefulness^ 
and their natural impatience at finding themselves impeded by the 
difficulties of the way and the unfairness of competitors, as well as 
the blindness and apathy of the community. I know that the heart 
sickens, and the spirit faints, from promise broken, wrong suflfered, 
and hope deferred, and that, from this prostration of pain and disap- 
pointment, the transition is natural to rage, outlawry, and shame, 
unless the mind is persuaded to conquer by bearing its fate. For that 
purpose do I repeat the conviction that the end will justify every 
mean save dishonor, it will remunerate every sacrifice except the 
loss of integrity. 

Whether your probation is to be long or short, gentlemen, let mo 
urge you to its most thorough improvement, by the acquisition of 
knowledge, in its extended signification. An illustrious scholar has 
Baid, that knowledge consists in what we derive from books, and 
from the living world around us. His definition, however, does not 
comprehend the whole subject. It certainly contains no sufficient 
recognition of that noble quality which so distinguishes the human 
intellect, and without which our minds would be only curious muse- 
ums instead of being what they are, stupendous laboratories: I mean 
the faculty of reflection. Books and men may furnish us facts and 
impressions, but the material is increased, takes practical shapes, at- 
tains higher value, and purifies itself, in that mental alembic. Above 
all things, then, cultivate habits of close reflection, of which reason, 
judgment, abstraction, attention, and memory, are the companions; 
and even if their prosecution should demand a limited disuse of libra- 
ries, submit to the hardship. The attribute of voluntary thought, 
without the aid of books, or the stimulus of external influence, is a 
characteristic of the greatest minds. It is one of the most difficult 
and exalted of human capabilities. The common-place intellect is 
totally impotent to bear the heavy taxation of its faculties demanded 
by it. It is a spontaneous energy unknown to ordinary natures. But 
it cannot attain its stature with the indolent. It proceeds from an 



271 

nidustrious application of the finest natural parts. The great major- 
ity of men dissipate so much time and talent in barren reading that 
they become at last disabled for mental exertion of any kind without 
the help of "aids to reflection," These the trained understanding 
scarcely wants in its most severe exertion. It works out difficulties 
by its own unassisted strength, and would not deign to call even upon 
Hercules. It is thorough, self-poised, and admirable, in every opera- 
tion, compelling all its faculties to act, persevering in its labor, and 
attaining the most remote and splendid results. Metaphysical opera- 
tions and phenomena are lhem.es not less attractive than profitable, 
and the investigation of them is pursued with intensity instead of 
negligence, that bane of ordinary pursuits. We are apt to read for 
amusement, and to read sluggishly, but we do not explore ourselves 
inertly. I coincide in the sentiment that the best, the most interest- 
ing study of mankind is man, a lesson hard to learn, but which good 
natural sense will enable any one to imderstand; and a lesson worth 
learning — for where, but in expatiating among our own powers, can 
we realize the whole truth and error — the beauty and deformity of 
that study, fundamental to all others, the study of human naturel 

Acquire also the public and domestic history of every former age, 
tliat study which is "admonition teaching by example." Compare its 
eras, scrutinize its testimony, and ponder upon its narrative. Dis- 
criminate among its heroes, and gather from its archives, stores of 
truth and philosophy for the contingencies of your own times. This 
is a manly recreation, and an imperative duty of the citizen. Con- 
sider it one of the Qiost im.portant. It is a stigma upon an American 
to be ignorant of the annals, and resources, and politics of his own 
magnificent country. He should make himself acquainted with her 
people, ascertain his own attitude and importance in regard to her 
leading interests, and saturate himself with the knowledge and the 
love of her noble institutions. He may, then, well obey the voice of 
patriotism, which bids him protect her from secret evil or bold inva- 
sion, and will be as proud to serve her in the wildest as in the calm- 
est hour of her fortunes. 

There are two exercises of the faculties, gentlemen, which more 
perfect the intellect of a man of the world, fix his information, and 
enable him to communicate it advantageously, than all others, to 
which I would earnestly call your attention — composition and oratory. 
AVell regulated schools always initiate their pupils into the rudiments 
of both, and at the University they are branches upon which much 
labor is bestowed, as well by the college government as its invaluable 
aids, the hterary societies. Never be satisfied, gentlemen, with your 
proficiency in either, constantly strive to outdo yourselves, and the 
effort will succeed in a proportion almost geotjiet^''^"'. 



272. MR. coery's address. 

It is a remark of Dr. Priestly 's, that, when he wanted to understand 
a subject, he wrote upon it. The remark is corroborated by experi- 
ence, for all know how much the practice of composition sharpens and 
methodizes the mind: it puts upon the thoughts, too, a garb which 
neither changes nor perishes like common speech. By putting your 
ideas into form, also, they may be more readily compared with those 
of the best writers on similar topics, giving you, when the parallel is 
favorable, a very innocent and available motive to pursue the im- 
provement. A habit of composition is invaluable. It enables the 
brain to grasp a variety of subjects at once, and to arrange them per- 
spicuously; it will give you command of language, brighten invention^ 
correct the imagination, mature the judgment^ and refine the taste. 
By reading we acquire the property of others, by reflection we estab- 
lish our own, and by writing we reahze the profits of both. 

Subsequently, but not subordmately, I would have you, by all 
means, nourish that native embryo, which inhabits every breast, of 
venting its thoughts in emphatic language. The uncultivated man 
is an orator, but, without the deepest excitement, cannot play the 
part. AVhenever his passions rage, or his interests approach a haz- 
ardous crisis, the gift of eloquence comes upon him like inspiration^ 
and so departs. But it is only after we accustom ourselves to inves- 
tigate thoroughly, as well as feel strongly, that we have full use of our 
oratorical powers. When composition, or some analagous discipline, 
has properly filled the mind, we may become brilliantly successful in 
the former. Cultivate extemporaneous speaking, as an engine of 
immense practical power, for providing against the exigencies of real 
life, in all its scenes. It confers untold vigor and elasticity, and 
quickness of perception and expression. Premeditated speeches are 
fitted to exhibit the perfection of the reason, and frequently contain 
more information, better dressed, than harrangues arising out of the 
occasion. They are, therefore, not to be despised; but, upon the 
stage of business, those who have previously written their arguments, 
to read or recite, are startled by the unforeseen events of debate, and 
unable to move from the beaten track with ease or dignity. Remarks 
unexpectedly adduced, though never so easily refuted, are not in- 
stantly wrested from the auditors, and, therefore, take root in their 
minds. The ready debater, like the ancient retiarius, by sudden 
turns and rapid movements, often surprises into his net, and des- 
patches a better armed and abler antagonist. How much finer is the 
effect, how much greater the impression, of an appeal bursting from 
the heart, than when it steals out of the recesses of memory. It is 
true, gentlemen, that, to become an eminent speaker, demands the 



MR. corry's address. 273 

severest ajiplication, and the sacrifice of ease, and a multitude of at- 
tractive employments. He must spend many laborious days, and 
never suffer an idle hour to upbraid him; but who will hesitate at 
labor when he considers the value of the acquirement? When the 
highest places invite him, and a whole people, with extended arms, 
welcome the victorious aspirant, whose footsteps will falter on the 
steepl The trophies raised in popular assemblies and our legislative 
halls, stand forever. The orator who leads public opinion, by the 
fascination of his eloquence, and bears down opposition, by the energy 
of his declamation, is man made perfect in dignity, and elevated far 
above kings and conquerors. An excellence so transcendantly hard 
to attain, deserves all homage. No art requires the same variety and 
extent of qualifications as the orator's, and yet so necessary is it in 
moulding events and the management of men, that a daring hand is 
occasionally seen plucking its laurels. In English history, how lumi- 
nous are the pages which commemorate her immortal Chatham, Burke, 
Pitt, Fox, Sheridan, and Canning, those gigantic benefactors who 
have effected more for *'the cause of hberty and mankind" than all 
their country's monarchs, and whose memories live in a brighter halo 
than surrounds the British throne. 

It was oratory, gentlemen, which achieved the preHminary indepen- 
dence of this country. Splendid men they were who poured into the 
ears of their compatriots in Congress, and over every hill and valley 
of this vassal land, sentiments inculcating the magnanimous virtue of 
resistance. The profound and magic eloquence of our Henrys, 
Adams', and Lees, "gave the impulse to the unrecoiling ball of revo- 
lution." Without their kindling breath, the fires of patriotism would 
have slept unroused upon its altar, and but for their impassioned em- 
phasis of "Liberty or Death," the struggle would have produced, not 
freedom, but abortive rebellion. And w^ho looks at this pleasant as- 
pect of the country, where manageable public opinion exercises una- 
bated influence over public affairs, without acknowledging that the 
inducements to the cultivation of oratory are multiplied'? The intel- 
ligent of both sexes collect instruction from the lips of lecturers in 
literary conventions. Candidates for office have recently been com- 
pelled to make frequent addresses to the people, and this appetite of 
the ear can never diminish. Wherever interests conflict, and dispo- 
sitions differ, wherever proselytes are to make and hearts to be touched, 
eloquence is the talisman. It is as rare, too, as it is valuable; for the 
luminaries of '76 have passed away, and a firmament, not starless, 
but comparatively dark, has succeeded that memorable epoch. Na- 
ture has given us many gems, whom industry might polish into splen- 



274 MR. coery's address. 

dor, but education is only beginning to improve her bounty: may it 
not be long till the cabinet o'f the Republic shall be the richest in the 
world! 

I cannot be contented, gentlemen, till I have given you some ad- 
ditional words of advice, helping you to meet, every day, questions 
of conduct without hesitation. I am sorry time permits me only to 
speak in apothegms. 

Exercise towards all men the utmost kindness of thought and deed, 
putting favorable constructions on their conduct, and holding up to 
them constantly the idea that you mean them v/ell. Make the hap- 
piness of others a large portion of your own, and do nothing to mar 
it wantonly, even in jest, as shght injustice is cruelty, and sometimes 
plants an irradicable resentment. I would not have you corrupted in 
the minutest measure, by the promotion of such a habit. Never be 
guilty of unworthy evasion, never equivocate to attain any object 
whatever: to temporize with the vices, or countenance the follies of 
any man, is being accessary to your own disgrace; to do it once is a proof 
of infirm judgment or morals, to repeat it is to suifer degradation. Be 
grateful without flattery, polite without affectation, cheerful without 
levity, and free without impertinence. Be humble but not poor spir- 
ited, sincere but not offensive, modest but not timorous, resolute but 
not presumptuous. Affix no ideas of excellence to parade and fash- 
ion, but, as to all others, be gentle toward those who are foolishly de- 
voted to them. The real gentleman has no ungenerous partialities, 
and no capricious dislikes, but is as benevolent of heart and liberal in 
sentiment as he is distinguished for propriety of taste and ease of 
manners. With slight reference to the opinion of the millions, he 
recognizes merit as the only real distinction among persons, and with- 
out regard to circumstances, is equally warm in his friendship for the 
poor and the rich. 

You should all, gentlemen, make up your minds superior to the com- 
mon accidents of life, and learn the lessons of truth, temperance, jus- 
tice, and patience, so well, that they would prepare you for every ex- 
tremity, at a moment's warning. 

As a relaxation of your minds as well as subserving the loud com- 
mands of charity, take a candid and frequently deep interest in 
things which pass around you, or approach you nearly. Give coun- 
sel affectionately to the enquiring mind of friends. Assist them in 
their plans of employment, and cleave to them in affliction. In that 
dread hour when nothing can be done, but much may be profitably 
said, desert them not; and as a purifying and elevating duty, make 
the graves of those who are no more, the termination of many of your 
solitary walks. 



275 

Dilligence, gentlemen, is the hand-maid of the young or the old 
man's respectability. It gives him the habits which will conquer, 
and turns him away from the subtle and engorging vortex of dissipa- 
tion. When you study, let your attention be exclusive and vigilant, 
recollecting that you cannot fail if your heart be not divided. Imitate 
no man servilely, for real greatness disdains the company of every 
thing but originality. Be free from fits of passion, and scorn that ob- 
stinacy which is always wrongheaded and unamiable, cherish evcn- 
iiessand pliancy of temper towards associates and strangers, friends 
and ibes. Indulge no vicious tastes because they are thought becom- 
ing, and, above all, never, unless you are dragged by cords which 
cannot be loosened, approach the precincts of that false God, in the 
mask of honor, 

"At whose red altar 
Sit war and homicide/' 

Lastly, gentlemen, always keep in mind that a reverence for Chris- 
tianity and its professors, is the crowning excellence of every char- 
acter. Venerate and obey Religion as the source and perfection of 
all morals, the cement of nations, and the gift of God in mercy to his 
creatures. Reprove the frivolity of those who deride it; contemn 
their inglorious sacrilege; but should you doubt its ho^y origin and in- 
fluence, compare the lives led according to its injunctions with the 
morahty of the undevout, and be instructed. 

If I were to select for your generous emulation a man who has flour- 
ished and gone to his reward, since the days of the hero sage who 
was "first in war — and in peace — and in the hearts of his countrymen," 
he would be one who is identified with our national glory — William 
Wirt. His prolonged career was blameless and supremely fortunate^ 
A jurist whose professional efforts are a large portion of our judicial 
history, and who twined for his brow a chaplet from the widely sun- 
dered fields of law and literature; and a patriot with whom 

"It was a high ambition, and his chiefest aim, 
To be the herald of his country's fame." 

Who has not admired the richness of his eloquence, his matchless 
elegance of illustration and language, his spontaneous effusions of 
wit, the classic sweetness of his style, and his pathetic power, apart 
from the splendor of his abilities as displayed in reasoning and argu- 
ment? 

For one of a nation of office seekers, he chose the better part of de- 
ferring to those zealous politicians, who press with such an earnest 



276 MR. corry's address. 

air, by tens of thousands, into the public service. His beloved voice 
was always heard rebuking thatpartizan warfare which rages through- 
out the land, and has reduced this late proud empire to scorn and 
contempt. His personal dignity, his industry, his urbanity, are all 
beyond praise, and worthy of being perpetuated. Whoever takes 
equal rank, will stand at the very head- of his vocation, and be enti- 
tled to the character of a finished gentleman and citizen. If, as he 
feared, men's hands had become familiar with the sword, and his eyes 
had beheld a bloody deluge pouring upon his native plains, the friends 
of this country would have gathered round such as he the standard of 
liberty and order, and would have leaned them on his great arm for 
support, trusting in him who had never trust betrayed, and whose 
confidence was with his God, that august being to whom he paid the 
continual worship of the heart. 

William Wirt did not share the common fate of the illustrious while 
he lived. His virtues were requited in homage, and not by insult, 
and he departed with the applause of time added to the blessed hope 
beyond it, ascending and descending upon him. ^'Recorded honors 
gathered round the solid monument of his earthly greatness," indeed; 
but more, infinitely, than this, he was received up into Heaven. 

Follow his steps, my fellow Graduates, and you shall wear the dou- 
ble diadem which crowned his head: you shall reap the laurels of 
temporal renown, you shall brave the perils of poor humanity, with 
uncowering breasts, and when the shades of a long evening shall 
shroud your bodies, but emancipate your souls, they will rise on the 
wings of enlightened and imperishable acclamation, to the glorious 
company of your Reynolds, your Halsey, your McLaurin, and your 
Gassaway, who, being just, have become perfect, in the courts of 
their Creator. 



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